Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time
by Koinaka
Summary: When Harry chooses to tamper with time to save his loved ones, he discovers exactly what happens to those who meddle with time.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here it is! The first chapter of the rewrite. I'm not quite happy with it, but well, I never am really! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Some spoilers for DH. AU - obviously.

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost_  
_

Chapter One  
A Hollow Victory

Harry always thought that when the war was finally over - when he had finally killed the man who had singlehandedly killed everyone Harry had ever loved - that he would be awarded some sort of peace. But for Harry Potter, dubbed by the wizarding world as first The Boy-Who-Lived and then The Man-Who-Triumphed, peace was elusive.

While Hermione and Ron were exploring their newfound relationship and the wizarding world was beginning the long process of rebuilding, Harry spent every moment he could with Mrs. Tonks and Teddy; even though some moments his chest ached with loss whenever he saw the smiling baby who - like himself - would grow up without his parents. If only... _if only_... Harry's thoughts now all revolved around if only's.

If only Harry had been better...

If only Harry had been faster...

If only Dumbledore hadn't died...

If only he hadn't been stupid enough to be tricked by Voldemort...

If only Sirius hadn't gone to the Department of Ministry...

If only his parents hadn't died...

If only, if only, _if only_.

Dumbledore had once said that it was Harry's choices that made him different from Tom Riddle. Harry thought that was rubbish, he truly did, but perhaps it wasn't. After all, how many things could have been different _if only_ one - _one_ - thing was changed. An alteration of only _one_ choice and everything - _everything_ - could have been different. It was both a comforting and disturbing thought.

It was the day before Harry's eighteenth birthday when the idea hit him. If he could somehow go back, maybe he could save them - any of them, _all _of them, he wasn't very particular!

"Hermione?" asked Harry, carefully. They were gathered at the Burrow for his birthday, although it was a gloomy celebration to be sure. The death of Fred still weighed heavily in the family. "What do you know of time travel?"

Hermione turned inquiring eyes on her friend. "Time isn't to be meddled with," she stated in a no-nonsense tone.

"Of course," Harry said, somewhat soothingly. "But - is it _possible?" _

Hermione gave him a withering look. "Well_, _theoretically," she began. At this, Ron groaned loudly and stifled a yawn.

"Blimey, Hermione, nothing good ever began with the word theoretically!" he said.

But Hermione was having none of it. She continued on as if Ron hadn't said a word. "It's... possible, but by no means advisable, Harry. Not only are all of the spells that are said to facilitate time travel extremely dark, they are also extremely dangerous to cast. They require an immense amount of power, and the consequences of using the spells are steep, to be sure."

"The sort of power one might find in an unstoppable _wand_?" asked Harry, slowly.

Both Hermione and Ron whipped their heads around at that.

"I thought you were going to put that in Dumbledore's tomb," Ron said, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I decided against it. I don't want it to get into the wrong hands," replied Harry. It was the truth - partially, at least. He couldn't very well tell them that he felt compelled to keep it, now could he?

Hermione studied him for a long moment. "Do you really think that wise?" she asked him, her voice taking on the pitying tone she sometimes used now when talking to him.

Harry shrugged. "Don't know, really. I never thought about it, but I suppose it's probably not. Not that that's ever stopped me before," replied Harry honestly, giving her a wry smile.

Hermione didn't look the least bit amused, but Mrs. Weasley came in and bustled them out into the yard, so Harry was able to avoid what was sure to be an epic length lecture. He'd never loved Mrs. Weasley more.

They didn't have a chance to speak alone for the rest of the day, but Hermione kept giving him these long, searching looks whenever she thought he wasn't looking, so Harry felt assured that all was certainly _not_ forgotten.

That evening when he apparated back to Grimmauld Place, he had a newfound purpose: time travel. He was going to go back in time and stop Voldemort before he had a chance to kill his anyone that he loved, consequences be damned. He already knew the locations of the horcruxes. There was nothing stopping him from completing the prophecy again. He was fairly certain he would be able to do it again - he'd done it once, after all - and if he went before the prophecy was given, then Voldemort would be none the wiser as to his mortality. It was an utterly selfish move, he thought, but was surprised to not feel the least bit guilty. How often, after all, had he placed his own desires second? How often had he done what was needed and not what he wanted to do? He had done his duty. Sacrificing even _himself_ for the wizarding world - it was time he did something for himself. Consequence be damned.

It took another four months to catch a break in his research. The book that contained the spell, not surprisingly, was as dark as Hermione said. More so, really. There were no results listed, in fact. Much like the entries he'd found concerning horcruxes, he found only a warning.

_Unless you be desperate beyond measure, attempt this not. _

Well, in the grand scheme of things, what sort of warning was that, really? Many of the other spells had listed - in graphic detail - exactly what would happen if he attempted the spells. And besides, wasn't he desperate - truly and utterly desperate? He had his friends, yes. And Teddy, of course. But if he could go back and make _their _- and his - lives better, he would do it. George wouldn't be without his twin, and little Teddy wouldn't have to know what it was like to grow up without parents.

There was only _one_ tiny problem.

There didn't seem to be a return spell. So, he could go back in the past, but he couldn't return - at least by way of magic. No, from all accounts, he figured he would have to return the normal way, one day at a time.

So, if he went back into the past, he would be stuck there. He wasn't sure how that even _worked._ Would he still be born if he was already there? He didn't know, but there was nothing doing. He'd simply have to risk it.

Once Harry obtained the spell, it took another three months to finish the preparations. He had become adept at hiding things from his friends, but he felt fairly certain that Hermione was on to him. He expected nothing less, though, honestly, from the brightest witch of the age. She had taken to popping in unexpectedly, hoping - he assumed - to catch him unawares. She hadn't thought she had come dangerously close on more than one occasion.

Finally, though, it was all done. He had emptied his vaults of all the monies contained within. He had purchased a small trunk. Clothing would have to wait, for the most part, until he arrived. He didn't want to draw too much attention by standing out. He carried only the clothes on his back plus a change of muggle clothing. The clothing, the money - kept safely within a goblin-insured bottomless money pouch - his original wand, the resurrection stone, and the invisibility cloak were all packed inside the small trunk. The trunk was then shrunken and placed inside the broken locket. Harry wasn't even sure _why_ he'd kept the locket. Much like keeping the wand, he'd felt compelled to do so. He could only assume that it would help him.

In his pocket was his identification. It was amazing what galleons can purchase - if one has the right connections in Gringotts which luckily enough for Harry, he did. He was to be called Aeon Black, the bastard son of Alphard Black. Alphard had been estranged from the family prior to his death in 1977. There would be no one to refute his claim. Besides, he had to use the last name Black. If not for any other reason than to explain his looks.

His appearance was, of course, the part of Harry's plan that had taken the majority of the time. He wanted - desperately - to keep his true appearance, but he knew that wasn't wise. Not when he was nearly a carbon copy of his father. He'd decided, then, to use elements of Sirius, his mother, _and_ his father. What he needed was a way to _change_ his appearance, permanently. Or... enough so that only _he_ would be able to enable himself to avert back to his proper form.

Harry thought it was fate that ihe spell - a glamour, of sorts - came from the same book that contained the time traveling spell. Well, considering that both spells were dark and almost suicidal in nature, perhaps it wasn't _fate_.

At any rate, all Harry need do was perform a ritual involving the spilling of copious amounts of blood - his own, at least - and endure a bit (... well, maybe more than a bit if the arching back and the crazed look on the illustration were any indication) of pain, and he would not look like a Potter at all. He would keep his father's hair and the shape of his mother's eyes though sadly the color would be changed to the gray so common place in the pureblood world. He would change his face to the more aristocratic shape that Sirius' once held. The Sirius in Snape's pensieve at least. Sirius, as Harry had known him, was but a shadow of his former self.

He spent one last night at the Burrow, though he was the only one who knew it was the last. He allowed Mrs. Weasley fuss over him and his deplorable thinness without complaint. It was all he could do to remain dry-eyed for the duration of the night. This was the last night he would be Harry Potter. The stuff for the ritual was already in place. He was wearing the locket and the papers were firmly in his pocket. He was ready - at least as ready as he would ever be.

The ritual was as painful as he expected. It was like the Cruciatus, worse in fact. He thought he would go mad with the pain of it - even welcomed it. Or, at least, welcomed the release from pain that the madness would bring. Then, it was over, as quickly as it had begin. The pain was gone, though the memory of it remained and his body tensed as if waiting for the return of it. He managed to stumble to the bathroom to look into the mirror. The face that stared back at him was familiar yet not. How odd it was. Gray eyes blinked owlishly behind his glasses. He let out a shuddering breath before leaving the room and heading down stairs into the parlor. The Elder Wand in his pocket felt heavier than ever before.

Once he arrived in the parlor, he took one last deep breath before pulling the Elder Wand out and moving through the motions he'd memorized as he intoned the Latin. Soon, he would set everything to rights.

"_Extrico Temporis Redintegro Erratum_."

Harry's entire world exploded in s bright white light. The last thing he remembered before the darkness overcame him was Hermione and Ron's surprised faces as they burst into the room just in time to see him disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapters will get longer, I assure you! At any rate, enjoy :D

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Some spoilers for DH. AU - obviously.

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

Chapter Two   
A Blank Slate

Narcissa Malfoy was not as overly fond of shopping as everyone thought her to be, but as the wife of one Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, there wasn't much else to do, and shopping, at least, guaranteed her freedom from Malfoy Manor, if only for a little while. Plus, she thought, as her hand came to rest idly on the slight swell of her belly, it was only a matter of time before it would be unseemly for her to continue her public appearances. So, she spent the majority of that frigid December morning wandering in and out of the various shops in Diagon Alley shopping for Christmas presents for her husband, her mind wandering freely, enjoying the opportunity to be herself that her solitude afforded her. Once her shopping was completed, she apparated to an abandoned alley and made the brisk walk from said alley to her Auntie Walburga's house. Since the disappearance of her favorite - and in her mind, _only_ cousin - Regulus, Narcissa had taken to calling on her aunt several times a week to check on the woman and ensure that the mad old house elf they kept, Kreacher, had been taking proper care of her. Her aunt didn't always allow her entry into the house, but attempting still lent Narcissa a small amount of comfort.

She found him on the way up the walk way. He looked so very much like Regulus, she nearly thought that it _was _Regulus. But she knew what her aunt did _not_ know. Regulus was never coming home. He was dead - dead by the very man whom he had sold himself; by the very man her husband served - the Dark Lord Voldemort.

She dropped to her knees beside the boy. He did look so very much like Regulus. Her heart clenched painfully as she gazed at his face. Grimacing at the coolness of the ground, she lightly ran a single finger down the boy's cheek. It was cool to the touch, much cooler, in fact, than it ought to be. She pulled her wand out and discreetly cast a warming charm along with a notice-me-not charm on the boy before stepping over him and up to her aunt's front door. She rapped three times on the door but received no answer. After another three raps, she turned back to the boy. He hadn't moved, but she hadn't expected him to. With a sigh, she headed over to him. The old Narcissa would have left him to his fate, but this new Narcissa, the one who was in the process of creating a human life - a magic like none other - could not do so. No, her instincts demanded that she help this boy. He was quite slight, but as he was still nearly her height, it was an awkward thing to gather him in her arms. She managed to do so, however, with a bit of work.

There was only the matter of _where_ to take him. For all she knew, he could be a murderer, but that didn't bother her half as much as it should. She'd become shockingly accustomed to killing and those who partook of it. With Lucius Malfoy as her husband, she hadn't a choice in who was paraded in and out of her home and lately, more often than not, that included murderers.

Her decision made, she apparated both of them back to Malfoy Manor, directly into her own private suite. With the conception of the Malfoy heir, Lucius had been quick to move Narcissa into her own set of rooms in the left wing. She called for her personal elf, Lobby, and ordered the elf to watch after the boy while she ran to make a firecall. There were precious few that she trusted. Precious few, indeed. But there was one person she thought may help her - Severus Snape. He was a friend of Lucius'. Perhaps friend was not quite the word for it, but despite that, he was the only one who had any mediwizardry training that she trusted.

"Severus Snape, Spinner's End," she called out clearly as she threw in a handful of powder and stuck her head in the green flame.

"Narcissa?" was the confused query Severus gave as he looked up from his brewing to see her face peering back at him.

"Severus," she breathed out, relieved that he was home. "Can you come through? I need your help."

His eyes widened as he searched her face for any signs of distress. "Is it the baby?" he asked in a low murmur.

Narcissa shook her head. "No. Will you come through?" she repeated.

"Yes, I will," he replied at last.

Narcissa pulled her head out of the flames just in time for the flame to flare green again and Severus to come walking through.

"How may I be of service to you?" asked Severus, slowly, his obsidian eyes sweeping around the room before landing on the figure resting in her bed. He turned to her, arching an ebony brow. "A lover, Narcissa?"

A sneer flitted across the otherwise pretty face. "Do you think me so foolish?" she asked him. "To ask my husband's closest friend for help with a _lover_?"

Severus sighed. "No." He wasted no time approaching the bed. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the figure closer. "Regulus..." he breathed out. "But _how?"_

Again Narcissa shook her head. "It's not Regulus; you know very well it is not! I'm not sure _who_ he is. I found him laying on the ground in front of Aunt Walburga's house. I couldn't just leave him there - I couldn't," she finished. She was chewing on her bottom lip. "Can you examine him?"

Never taking his eyes off the boy, Severus nodded. "I will," he conceded. "But if it beyond me, then we will have to take him to St. Mungo's."

She gave him a terse nod. "I'll just go into the sitting room, then. Would you like some tea?"

Severus murmured his acceptance, before pulling his wand out of its holster. Narcissa gave the boy laying on her bed one last glance before hurrying out of the room.

She had Lobby bring a tea set for two to the sitting room, and she set about fixing Severus' tea the way he liked it before doing the same to her own. No sooner had she set the tea glass down did a pale-faced Severus came stumbling into the room.

"I think you ought to see this," he said.

Narcissa wasted no time in following Severus back into the room. "Is he...alive?" she asked before approaching the bed.

"Yes, now that he is no longer laying amidst the snow and his temperature is back to normal, he is out of the danger zone. He seems to be suffering from magical exhaustion. He won't wake until his body has recovered his magical reserve."

Narcissa let out a sigh of relief before glaring at him. "You gave me a fright," she accused him, lightly. "What has you so troubled then?"

"This," he stated before pulling back the shirt the boy was wearing. It had been buttoned, but during his examination, Severus had unbuttoned the top two buttons before discovering the necklace both he and Narcissa were now looking at.

She gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth, blue eyes wide. "Is that...?" she asked.

"The lost locket of Salazar Slytherin?" he finished for her. "So it would seem."

"It is, isn't it?" her hand reached out almost instinctively to caress the heavy golden locket. Severus grabbed her hand before she could do so.

"_Don't_," he hissed. "It's cursed. I know not what sort of curse lays upon it, but it _is _cursed. You musn't touch it. The same curse seems to be upon his forehead as well," He motioned to the odd lightning-bolt shaped scar marring the boy's otherwise smooth skin.

She turned her blue eyes on Severus. "_How_ is it that he came to have it? The locket's been lost for centuries!"

"I do not know," he replied, honestly. "I must go inform our Lord. He has been searching for the locket since he attended Hogwarts. I suggest you move your guest into another room and prepare yourself for a visit from the Dark Lord. I shall bring with me a cleansing potion. It should be able to remove the curse from the boy's forehead."

Before she could utter another word, Severus was gone. Narcissa let out a heavy sigh and sunk onto her bed. She watched the boy's deep breathing for several moments.

The Slytherin locket was a legend among the Slytherins at Hogwarts. Men had searched their entire lives for the locket only to come up empty handed and with far less sanity than they started with. And now, here it was...

Narcissa had Lobby apparate the boy into a guest quarters across from her suite and dress the boy for bed in a pair of transfigured pajamas. The house elf was just finishing when Narcissa entered the room. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, if his steady breathing was any indication. His face was still a bit pale, but otherwise, he appeared to be well.

"Mistress, I found these papers in the Mistress' guest's pocket," Lobby said, handing an envelope filled with papers out to Narcissa.

"Thank you, Lobby," murmured Narcissa, softly. "You may go and ensure that dinner is prepared. We shall be having two guests for dinner as well."

Lobby bowed low before disappearing with a soft _crack_. Narcissa's slender finger traced the official seal of the Ministry on the envelope. She knew what was contained within this envelope. All of age witches and wizards were required to carry a set of these papers on their persons - when traveling internationally especially.

Narcissa drew a chair closer to the head of the bed and lowered herself in it, preparing to set up vigil until Severus returned. Every moment that passed by, the color was returning to the boy's face. Upon closer inspection, he looked much more like Sirius than Regulus, but there was no doubting his heritage. He was a Black, that was plain to see. Lucius was sure to be angry at her for bringing a stranger into his house, but if the boy was a Black - and Narcissa was certain he _was_ - then he was her family.

An hour into her vigil, the boy let out a soft sigh and his long eyelashes fluttered against the creamy skin of his cheeks before opening to reveal gray eyes - the very same gray eyes both Regulus and Sirius shared. He blinked several times before turning his head. At seeing Narcissa, his eyes widened and he scrambled away from her.

"Keep away from me!" he exclaimed when she tried once more to approach him.

"I'll not hurt you," said Narcissa soothingly. The boy didn't seem to trust her words though he did, more out of necessity than want, she knew, lay back down on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

He seemed to ponder her question for a long moment. "Fine, I suppose," he said, finally.

Narcissa offered him a small smile. "I'm glad. You gave me quite a fright. I hadn't expected to find a young boy in the walk in front of Aunt Walburga's house. I'll firecall her in a moment and let her know you're alright. She must be frantic with worry. When was she expecting you?"

But the boy's face only grew more confused looking. "I'm afraid I don't understand," he said. "Do I know you?"

Blue eyes widened fractionally. "How remiss of me. I'm Narcissa Malfoy. Please forgive my rudeness for me not introducing myself. It's been a strange day."

The boy gave a curt nod. "That's alright. I'm..." he trailed off, his brow furrowed, a frown firmly set on his face. His eyes widened, almost comically so. "I... I don't know _who_ I am," he confessed in a hushed tone. A look of panic appeared on his face. His breath started to come out in harsh spurts. "Who _are_ you? How did I get here?" he demanded.

"I brought you here," she told him. "I found you unconscious on the stoop of Auntie Walburga's house. I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you to my home - Malfoy Manor."

Narcissa expected to see some sort of recognition in those familiar eyes of his, but found none. "Surely you know of the Malfoy's? You _are_ a Black, are you not?"

"I don't know!" he cried out. "I can't remember."

"That's alright," she murmured. "Perhaps its a side effect of the curse. Severus said you had been cursed. What do you remember?" she asked, curiously.

A silence fell over the boy. When he spoke again, his tone was horror-filled. "Nothing," he breathed out softly. "_Nothing_." he repeated.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry, it took so long! Work has been horrible, and I've so many fics going that I can't update everything. I know, I know, my muse is a terrible thing to behold. I only wish I could spend all day writing. Why must I work!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Some spoilers for DH. AU - obviously.

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

Chapter Three   
An unusual reaction

Blue eyes widened fractionally. "Nothing?" she queried. "Not a single thing?"

The boy's gray eyes stared dully at a piece of lint on the bedding. He gave his head a small shake, causing his hair to become even more mussed than before. "_Nothing_," he said. "Well, I _know_ things, but I can't remember how I learned them or when. I don't remember my name or how I got here, only that I _am_ here, you see. And I don't know who you are but I think... well, I feel like I may have known you before. You are... familiar to me, if that makes any sense." He shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry if I've caused you any inconvenience."

Narcissa gave him a reassuring smile. She was surprised to discover it wasn't forced - or fake - at all, but a _real _smile. "Don't be absurd. We're family. As for your name, well, that's easy enough to discover." She still held the envelope in her hands. "This was in your pocket. It's customary for of age wizards - and witches - to carry a set of identification papers at all times."

The boy's hands trembled slightly as he reached out for the envelope. He opened it slowly, terrified of what was contained within it. The papers weren't papers at all but heavy parchment. His eyes skimmed over the letter.

"Aeon Black," he breathed softly. "My name is Aeon Black."

Now, Narcissa beamed. "You see, we _are_ family. I am a Black by birth. May I?" she asked with an incline of her head.

Aeon nodded. He folded up the papers and handed it to Narcissa.

"_Uncle Alfie!_" she murmured. "Well, I can't believe it. We never knew he had a son."

"You know my father? Should we contact him, then? Mightn't he be looking for me?" asked Aeon, gray eyes fixed on her.

Narcissa bit her lower lip and gave a slight shake of her head. "I _knew_ him, but I'm sorry to say he passed on several years ago. We weren't terribly close. He was...well, he wasn't very fond of Auntie Walburga - not that _anyone_ is fond of her mind, she's a boar, that one - and they had a terrible fight. None of the family had spoken with him in years."

Aeon sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter. So, what shall we do? I've no where to go!" His chest clenched painfully. He had no memory, his father was dead, his mother hadn't been listed on the paper, and he had the horrifying feeling that he was missing _something. _That something niggled at the back of his mind. He had some purpose, but what was it?

Narcissa looked very offended at Aeon's question. "You'll stay here, of course!" she replied, rather indignantly. "You're my cousin, I'll not send you away."

Aeon gave a jerky nod. He supposed he didn't have any other choice, really. "Are you quite fond of snakes?" Aeon asked. Neither had spoken for several minutes, giving Aeon a chance to study the room he'd been placed in. There paintings of snakes spread throughout the room. _Moving, talking_, paintings. How bizarre.

"Snakes? I suppose so," she said, rather distractedly. "Why do you ask?"

Aeon shrugged. "There's so many of them in the room. How does anyone ever sleep in here with all of the talking?" It wasn't that the snakes were bothering him, or that he had anything _against_ them, really, but it was just that they were so _loud_. At first they'd been a mere murmur, but not they were talking to one another rather excitedly.

Now, Narcissa sat frozen. This room was the room that the Dark Lord typically stayed in whenever he stayed here. She'd inadvertently placed the boy here - perhaps not so inadvertently. It was the nicest guest suite in the manor, after all. "You can hear them?" she asked.

Aeon furrowed his brow. "Can't _you_? How can you not? I mean, _that one there is complaining - rather voraciously - that you never visit these quarters anymore. _And _that one over there wishes the dark man with his large snake would come visit again - wasn't that such great fun to have a person to speak to them?_ How can you _not_ hear them?"

Shakily, Narcissa stood. "I can _hear _them," she said, softly, backing away as she did so. "But I can't _understand _them. They're snakes. They speak a different language. _You_ just spoke that same language."

Aeon shook his head. "I'm afraid that just isn't so! They're speaking English, just like _I'm_ speaking English."

"You're speaking English _now_," confirmed Narcissa. "But you weren't a moment before. You were speaking Parseltongue - snake language."

"Oh, _oh_," he said. He furrowed his brow again. "Is that a bad thing?"

Narcissa smiled, but this time it was a tight, forced smile. "No, of course not. There are... others who share your talent. Now, enough talk. You must be famished. I'll just send an elf along with some food, then, shall I? Nothing too heavy, perhaps a bit of soup?" At his nod, she continued. "Very well. Severus - a friend of my husband's - will be along shortly. He's promised to bring something to help you. He's a very brilliant man. If anyone can help return you memories to you, he can. If not, at least he'll know more about what we should do."

Aeon sighed, but gave Narcissa a small smile. "Thanks," he said.

Narcissa gave him one last smile before fleeing the room. She was in the process of flying down the stairs when the alarm went off in the atrium that alerted her to arrivals. She froze. It wasn't Lucius, though he was due home soon. If it were Lucius, no alarm would go off. He was the Master of the home, after all. No, it _had_ to be Severus and the Dark Lord. She hurried off to that direction, entering the room just in time to see Severus and the Dark Lord brushing the ashes off of their robes.

"My Lord," she murmured, curtseying.

"My dear Narcissa, you look even lovelier than before. Motherhood certainly seems to become you. Do forgive the lateness of my congratulations, I've been rather busy," he gave her a sardonic smile. "I hear you've made a rather interesting discovery."

"Yes," she said. "A boy, the son of my estranged uncle."

"And is it true, then, that he is wearing the lost locket of Salazzar Slytherin?" he queried.

Again, Narcissa agreed. "He is," she confirmed.

"How very interesting," he murmured, a bit distractedly. His crimson eyes were narrowed slightly. Narcissa felt a chill travel down her spine at the look on his face. "May I?" he said, indicating the door.

Narcissa was beginning to feel quite flustered. "Yes, of course. Shall I have a house elf escort you?"

"No need," said the Dark Lord. "I can _feel_ where he is. Severus, I shall want a few minutes alone with the boy before you come up."

It was not a request, but a command. "As you wish, my lord," Severus said.

"Yes, yes, it is _that," _said the dark wizard before leaving the room.

"What is it?" Severus murmured to her in a low tone once the Dark Lord had gone. She kept sending fervent looks in the direction of the door. She turned frantic eyes to him.

"The boy - _Aeon_ - he's a parseltongue."

Severus Snape sucked in a sharp breath. "_What_?"

Once alone, Aeon allowed the heavy exhaustion that still clung to wash over him, but sleep was elusive. Exhausted though he was, he dared not fall asleep yet. Narcissa Malfoy, his cousin, seemed safe enough, but for some reason her presence vexed him. His first reaction - upon waking previously - had been to _run!_ Fight or flight - and he'd known, immediately, that flight was his best option.

He'd known he couldn't fight. He felt empty, as if he were missing a vital portion of himself. _Magic_, a voice supplied in his head. His magic was depleted. Whatever had happened in the moments proceeding his arriving on the doorsteps of his Aunt Walburga had seriously depleted his magic. The only thing was, of course, was that since Aeon didn't rightly know _what_ had happened, there was no way to know how depleted he was, or what had depleted him in the first place. The darkest of the dark arts - those primarily lost to a more modern audience - were notorious for their ability to deplete a wizard - and for making their magic, once it returned, unstable. It was for that reason alone that they were now lost. The dilution of blood had resulted in the creation of weaker wizards and the instability of magic tended to result in insanity more often than not.

As the generations passed, the number of those with the ability to practice such magic had dwindled. It was human nature to fear what you do not know. That was why there was now such a stigma in regards to practicing the dark arts. How very odd that he knew all of this magical theory and not a bit of his life! Yet the theory was there, almost as if he was reading it from a book, and for all he knew, he _could_ have read it from a book.

He could assume that this was also the case, perhaps, with his ability to speak to snakes. Parseltongue, Narcissa had called it. She'd seemed very frightened of it - and _him, _by default. Was this, too, a result of it being lost for the most part? He didn't know. He obviously hadn't researched this in his previous life. He let out a lengthy sigh. He hoped that Narcissa's friend - Severus, had she said? - would be able to help him. The idea of never regaining his memories was overwhelming.

The door opened, then. Aeon assumed it was Narcissa, perhaps, or even the elf she was to send with food, but he was fairly surprised when a man entered the room. As before, with Narcissa, an overwhelming feeling flooded him at the man's appearance. His entire body tensed and his breath began to come in harsh gasps.

The dark-haired man gave him a perplexed look before moving closer to him. Closer proximity seemed to do nothing to alleviate his anxiety. His magic, despite its weakened state, responded to his panic causing several items near him - including the paintings on the wall - to begin to rattle and shake. The man was speaking to him now, Aeon knew, but he could not make out the words. Pain beyond pain coursed through him, its origin the strange mark he'd felt on his forehead. He must have called out at some point because within seconds, Narcissa and another man entered the room. The other man, this must be Severus, was at his side almost immediately. He pulled a vial out - _a potion_, that same voice in his head supplied - and put it to Aeon's lips. Reflexively, Aeon drank the bitter liquid. The effect was instantaneous. The pain subsided, and Aeon allowed himself to be pulled under into the heady darkness of slumber.

When next he woke, it was to a murmur of voices, an argument of sorts. With a bit of effort, he opened his eyes. He could see Narcissa standing near the door whispering harshly to a tall blonde-haired man. The dark-haired man with a large hook nose lurked at the foot of his bed. However, when Aeon's gaze settled on him, he moved to his side immediately.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Black?" he asked.

A groan was Aeon's response. How did he feel? Well, the truth was, he felt terrible. Sore. Achy. _Weak._ "Empty," was what he settled on. He felt utterly and truly empty. Depleted.

Dark eyes studied him for a moment. "I suppose so. Your magic is severely depleted. It was so before your bout of wandless magic. Do you often have these spurts of uncontrolled magic?" queried the man.

Aeon closed his eyes. It was quite bright in the room, and his head ached. "I don't know," he said, a moment later. "I don't remember."

This didn't seem to surprise the man, he seemed to expect it, in fact. "Are you Severus, Narcissa's friend?" asked Aeon.

He nodded. "I am," he confirmed.

"Can you help me, then? She said you might be able to help me regain my memories."

Severus regarded him with pursed lips. "I'll certainly _try_, but for now, you mustn't overexert yourself. There is always the possibility that if you keep yourself calm and give your magic a chance to replenish itself, your memories might return on their own. It's a small possibility, of course, but one nonetheless."

Aeon nodded. His eyes scanned the room. It was different than before. There were no paintings of snakes. In fact, there were no paintings at all, here. It was rather bare. Before he had a chance to ask why he'd been moved, Narcissa - and the blonde haired man - joined Severus.

"You gave us quite a fright," accused Narcissa, but Aeon could see that she was _still_ frightened.

"I didn't mean to," Aeon replied truthfully. And he hadn't. Only... he couldn't control his reaction to the man. _The man!_ How could he have forgotten! Reflexively, his fingers searched out the locket he wore around his neck. When his fingers touched the cool metal, he sighed. It was still there, then. The blonde haired man watched the action with great interest. As did Severus. Narcissa, for her part, seemed oblivious to it. She was too busy fussing over him to notice.

" - not to move out of this bed!" she was saying when he was able to tear his eyes off of the blonde haired man.

He gave a nod. "I won't," he said. What he _didn't_ say was that he doubted he could - even if he _wanted_ to. His eyes flitted back over to the man. Narcissa did notice that.

"This is my husband, Lucius Malfoy, he's agreed to allow you to stay here..." Narcissa said before continuing onto a list of things Aeon ought not do.

But where was the man from before, and why had his mere presence frightened Aeon so?

Before he could contemplate this further, his eyes began to flutter close again, weariness taking hold of him once more.

"Come, Narcissa, can't you see the boy needs his rest?" drawled her husband, a sneer on his face. "Leave him be, for now. Severus will look after him, won't you?" Lucius gave Severus a significant look.

"Of course," replied Severus, his expression otherwise unreadable.

Narcissa looked as if she might protest, but after a moment, sighed and allowed her husband to lead her out of the room. Her worried face was the last thing Aeon saw before sleep claimed him.


	4. Chapter 4

I've quit my job, so I have been on a crazy updating spree. I don't know how I feel about this chapter, really, but I suppose it'll do. You might be interested to know that when I first envisioned this story, I wanted Aeon to be discovered by the Dark Lord. He was always supposed to be primarily with them. I am not sure, really, why I ever had him discovered by Dumbledore in the original. Anyway, hope you enjoy it! As far as the time line goes, I will stick as close as I can to the original, which means that _yes_, Pettigrew is passing on information about the Order to Voldemort. Expect the prophecy to be brought to his attention rather soon, as well. The Lexicon assumes that this was heard by Severus sometime between Winter of 1979 and Spring of 1980. Severus is not yet a professor, yet, though I do intend him to be one when the time comes.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Some spoilers for DH. AU - obviously.

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

Chapter Four  
A Surprising Discovery

Much to Aeon's dismay, it was another week before Narcissa allowed him to be out of his bed. Not only that, but he truly _was_ trapped in bed as he hadn't the strength to do otherwise. Oh, he'd tried, of course, but he found himself so utterly drained by the attempt and angered by his weakness, that he didn't try again. As a result, Aeon had become unusually tetchy - and incredibly, incredibly bored. Narcissa tried to keep him in good spirits, but even her enthusiasm and quick smile couldn't penetrate his unhappiness. Her visits helped, of course, he couldn't deny that, but when she was gone, Aeon felt as if the world were pressing against him. He didn't understand that feeling at all. Severus, who visited when he could, thought perhaps it was imprints of his lost memories, but because Aeon couldn't remember, and because none of the memory retrieval methods Severus had tried - and he'd tried _many_: potions, legilimency, and even some darker methods - had worked, it was very likely that Aeon would never know. Nor was it likely that anyone would know precisely _why_ it was that he had been traveling to see Walburga Black. When questioned, she was quick to say that she had never heard of any Aeon Black, and even if she had, his father being disinherited as he was, he was no Black to _her_.

At least Severus had discovered that what he thought at first to be a curse was actually _not_ a curse. Unfortunately, he didn't know what it was although he seemed quite eager to do more research on it. He had to wait until the Christmas holidays to do so, however, as Severus was busy with his Potions mastery. Aeon didn't doubt that Severus would discover what it was. He was quite clever, after all, and he seemed to think of Aeon as his pet project, so to speak. Not that Aeon minded because truly he did not. He was rather fond of Severus. Even if Severus didn't didn't discover what it was, it was likely that someone would, as the Malfoys had hired a team of healers who flitted in and out of his room at their leisure, performing every test known to wizarding kind - and perhaps a few _not_ known to wizarding kind - all to absolutely no avail. At the end of the first week of testing, he was diagnosed by a rather frazzled looking healer as having magical depletion. He was given a series of potions to take and told that all he could do was to _wait_ for his magical levels to rise on their own.

As far as his memories went, the Healers were quite perplexed. There was no trace of an _obliviate_ nor any type of _confundus _charm in place. It was as Severus had said, the memories were simply gone. This news had caused a bit of discord in the Manor. Lucius, while remaining flawlessly polite to him whenever he was near Aeon, which is to say very, _very_, rarely, seemed to harbor a great dislike for him, or at least, a distrust of him. He seemed greatly reluctant to believe that Aeon truly had no memories. Or, perhaps, his dislike and distrust of Aeon had more to do with the fact that the other man, the one Aeon had been so terribly frightened by, currently in residence at Malfoy Manor had taken a great deal of interest in him.

It turned out that there was a perfectly good explanation for the fear the man had caused in Aeon. He was the Dark Lord, and not only that, but according to the _Daily Prophet_, he was the most dangerous dark wizard the wizarding world had ever known. Perhaps Aeon was correct to fear the man as he _had_ taken a great deal of this interest in him since his arrival. At first, after their disastrous first meeting, the Dark Lord had largely stayed away from him. Although, whether this was because of the healers or because he simply had no desire to see Aeon, he didn't know.

However, during the second week of his convalescence this changed. Aeon awoke one morning to find the man sitting at his bedside, peering at him with unreadable crimson eyes. In the days following that, the Dark Lord would turn up in his rooms at the oddest hours. He rarely spoke to Aeon during these visits, but Aeon was pleased to discover that while the Dark Lord's presence would never have the calming effect on him that Severus or even Narcissa had, he never felt as frightened as he had that first day.

Little by little, Aeon learned more about the man though never from the Dark Lord himself. He gleaned what he could from observation, and the rest he learned from the newspaper. The Dark Lord had a group of followers, he called them his Death Eaters, who seemed only all too willing to do his bidding. Severus and Lucius were a part of this group, as were, it seemed, many others. He gleaned that they had meetings of a sort, but as the meetings were not held there at the Manor, and no one seemed particularly eager to tell him anything, he didn't know what purpose, if any, these meetings held. Although, he sincerely doubted it was a coincidence that following nearly every one of these so-called meetings, _The Daily Prophet_ was filled with tales of murder and mayhem.

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Aeon's magic was at a more manageable level, and he was able to leave his bed for brief periods of time without feeling utterly exhausted. He was even able to cast several very _minor_ spells. Of course, this quasi-independence was almost worse than the total dependence he had suffered before.

He was beginning, however, to be quite disgruntled. He'd been alone more often than not for the last week. Lucius has been positively scarce, and Narcissa had taken to disappearing for long periods of time. When she was there, she was distracted and talked _at_ him more than she did _to_ him. Even the Dark Lord, who Aeon could typically count on to hover about him, most annoyingly, as he slept was curiously absent. He was determined to discover exactly where everyone was going off to. He got his chance when Severus arrived at the Manor to give Aeon a check-up.

"You are much better," Severus told him as he ran one of the tests he'd learned from the healer.

Aeon scowled. "I don't _feel_ any better," he said, plaintively. "I can't even cast a bloody _lumos_ without feeling winded."

Severus gave him a pointed look. "You can... provided you use your _wand_."

Aeon sighed. "I told you before, it's not my wand - it doesn't feel like it at least. I mean, it works well enough, I suppose, but I don't like the feel of it."

Severus's dark eyes studied him intently. "It was the wand that you had on you, according to Narcissa. It must be yours."

Aeon chewed on his lower lip. "You're right, it must be, but that doesn't mean it feels right."

"Perhaps not," allowed Severus, "but if you continue to attempt wandless magic you will continue to be disappointed. It may be that you simply cannot remember what using your wand _ought_ to feel like. Better to simply become accustomed to the feel of it once more than to avoid using it, I should think. Any other complaints? Narcissa tells me you've been up and about more often since my last visit."

"I have," Aeon confirmed with a scoff. "Not that she would know, mind you. She's barely been here half a dozen times this entire week. I've been alone save for that blasted house elf they've given me, Dobby, he is, who is, incidentally, the most vexing creature I've ever met. Not only have I been alone, but she's warded the doors so that I cannot leave!"

An odd look flitted across Severus's face before it smoothed out. "She has her reasons, I am sure. Things are quite hectic, being the time of year it is.

"Where has everyone _else _been, then? I've not seen the Dark Lord in _days, _and he typically doesn't stay away for that long. I don't think he's even been here at night - and that is certainly odd!" Aeon continued to whinge.

Severus seemed to hesitate for a moment, his dark eyes moving to the door before settling on Aeon, his thin lips set into a hard line. "Believe it or not, Black, the entire world does not revolve around _you_. The Dark Lord is an exceedingly busy man. You cannot expect that he would continue to sit at your bedside. You've no right to question his whereabouts, and to do so is a dangerous thing, indeed."

Folding his arms across his chest, Aeon huffed and fell back against his soft cushions of the settee. Never before had Severus spoken so harshly to him. He knew he was whinging, he_ did_, but he was completely and utterly alone here without even his memories to keep him company. Severus continued his various tests, but Aeon paid him no mind. He flipped aimlessly through one of the many books that littered the room blinking furiously at the tears threatening to spill. It wasn't even that he particularly enjoyed the Dark Lord's visits, really, as he still felt some amount of pain whenever he was near the man, but out of everyone he'd met here, he felt more... _connected_ to him. Even though his presence made him uneasy, even though he could barely stand to meet his gaze, when they were together, he could _almost_ remember something - more emotions than anything else. Anger, mostly, but he'd take whatever he could of his past.

"You should be pleased," Severus said, at last, "everything seems to be coming together nicely. Your magic is stabilizing as is your stamina. I'll be in residence until the new year, and I am, as we speak, working on a potion that may help to increase your magic. The Dark Lord has also requested that I produce one that will limit the amount of pain you feel in his company."

"Why?" asked Aeon, curiously. The Dark Lord hadn't seemed to care, particularly, if Aeon was in any pain. Of course, as Aeon was generally asleep when the man was there, the pain was hardly unbearable.

Obsidian eyes narrowed. "It is not my place, nor is it _yours_, to question the Dark Lord."

Aeon's scowl deepened.

"I must go," Severus told him a moment later. "I'll stop by to see you again during the ball, shall I?" He ran a hand through his ebony hair. "I truly abhor balls," he muttered to himself.

"_Oh_," sighed Aeon. "Of course, the ball," he continued dully. He'd forgotten about the Christmas ball. He wouldn't be attending. He felt well enough, but Narcissa thought it would be too much of a strain, and Severus, traitor that he was, agreed with her.

"There will be other balls, Aeon," Severus said, wearily. "You _could_ attend, provided you don't mind the set back you would suffer. It's likely that you would be as weak as you were in the beginning after such an exertion. I would suggest against it, as would Narcissa, but as you are an adult, you are welcome to do as you please."

It was only when Severus had gone that Aeon felt his anger begin to simmer. Who was Severus to reprimand him as if he were an errant school boy? He was the closest Aeon had to a friend here, really - and wasn't that just pathetic? - but even that didn't give him leave to order Aeon about. He took the heavy tome he had been perusing and heaved it across the room in frustration. He did the same with a second book. And then a third. He was so caught up in his anger, he never even noticed the door open and close quietly.

There was a rather loud squeak of as the fourth book sailed across the room and landed with a _thump_ next to the newcomer. "W-watch where you're throwing things!" said a breathless voice. "Merlin, you n-n-nearly hit me."

Aeon lifted his head, his gray eyes narrowed. "And what would you have done if I did?" he asked the boy, or man rather, though he couldn't be much older than Aeon was.

The man's brown eyes widened as he took in Aeon's appearance. "_Regulus?_" he asked in a strangled voice.

"No, of course not," said Aeon as if speaking to a rather dimwitted child. "Not that it is _any_ of your concern who I am, Regulus Black, I'm told, died not too long ago...but perhaps you aren't as well informed as I assumed..." Aeon said, delicately, before trailing off.

There were many things one could glean if only they observed those around them. While Aeon still remained woefully ignorant on most matters concerning the Dark Lord, he had gathered _some_ information even if it was mostly pointless. Sirius Black, whom Aeon was rumored to resemble, had a younger brother, Regulus. A brother who had, not even six months prior, disappeared quite mysteriously and who was now, if Narcissa could be believed, dead. Aeon had no reason to doubt her, and it wasn't so far fetched a conclusion. Of course, Aeon didn't know why Regulus was dead, but he had some suspicions, and it was likely they would prove to be true.

The mousy-haired man pulled himself up indignantly. "I am v-very w-well informed!" he sputtered.

Aeon raised one dark eyebrow. "If you say so, then, of course, it must be so," he replied succinctly.

"Who're you, anyway?" grumbled the man.

Aeon regarded him coolly for a moment. "Why should I tell you? If you are as well informed as you seem to think you are, then surely you must be aware of my identity, and if you're not, who are _you_ to demand things of me? You are the one, after all, who came into _my_ bedroom - uninvited, I might add. Perhaps you should tell me who _you_ are."

The man before him flushed and then gave Aeon a weak sneer. "I was lost! Not that I have to explain myself to _you_."

"Lost?" queried Aeon. "And quite early, too, I should think, if you are attending the ball...Not to mention that you are most inappropriately attired. Unless, of course, you weren't attending the ball at all. Yes, that seems much more likely. So, the question is, why _were_ you lurking about in Malfoy Manor? You don't appear to be a Malfoy or even a Black, and it is unlikely that you are a friend of Lucius's. He is quite particular, after all, about who he associates with, so that makes me wonder why are you here?"

Now, Aeon didn't really _care_ why the man was here, and he did not, in fact, know what Lucius looked for in his.. friends, nor did he care. What he _did_ know that this man's very presence enraged him. More so than the Dark Lord's, really... so it wasn't quite so unexpected that Aeon would toy with the man a bit. He was rather bored after all, and as the man didn't show any signs of leaving, Aeon decided to see how far he could push him. It was sure to prove amusing, and it may even prove informative. Provided, of course, the man knew anything, and that was beginning to seem very unlikely.

As suspected, the man was very ruffled by Aeon's remarks. "I don't have to explain myself to you," he snarled.

"Perhaps not, but as I've said, it was _you_ who barged into _my _room. Were you on your way to the meeting, then?" asked Aeon, softly, giving the man a pointed look.

The man blanched, but quickly recovered. "Shut _up!_" he exclaimed. "And what do _you_ know about the meetings anyway?"

So Aeon _was_ getting closer... how very interesting. "Oh, I know a great deal," he said, "a great deal more than you, perhaps..."

"The Dark Lord trusts me implicitly!"

"Does he now?" asked Aeon, indifferently, a bored look upon his face. "Perhaps so."

"He _does!_" snarled the agitated man. "He trusts me above all others!"

"If you say..."

The man's breaths were coming in pants now, he was trembling, and clutching his wand in his hand. "I do say! I don't have to explain myself to you!" the man repeated.

Aeon sighed. "So you've said," he replied.

"But you do have to explain yourself to me, Pettigrew. I believe I was quite plain in my instructions to you. You were not to come near this part of the manor," hissed an angry voice behind him. Aeon wasn't surprised at all to find the Dark Lord there, the throbbing pain he now felt had announced the man mere seconds before he had spoke.

Seeing the Dark Lord, Pettigrew froze. He shuddered before dropping to his knees. "Forgive m-me, Master... it was wrong of me to enter here, but I heard several loud noises from within. I thought - wrongly - that perhaps someone was in need of my help..." the man's words turned into whimpers as the Dark Lord flicked his wand. The whimpers soon became screams, only then did the Dark Lord lower his wand.

"I thought you said you were lost?" queried Aeon when Pettigrew's screams had stopped.

Pettigrew's face was twisted into an angry snarl, but before he could utter another word, he found himself beneath the Dark Lord's wand once more. Aeon felt oddly _satisfied_ by the man's pain. In fact, he felt very, _very_, satisfied by it.

When the Dark Lord finally lowered his wand this time, Pettigrew wasted no time, he bowed low to the Dark Lord, and scurried quickly out of the room. The Dark Lord studied Aeon for a moment, but then he spun around and left the room without speaking a single word, leaving Aeon puzzled and more than a bit let down by his sudden departure.

Aeon fingered the locket he wore beneath his robe as he contemplated the Dark Lord's actions. His breath hitched in his throat as the locket fell open and something tumbled out and fell onto his lap. He picked it up, furrowing his brow as he studied it. It seemed to be a trunk, albeit only the size of a thimble.

"It must be shrunken," he said, to himself, as he reached for the wand that lay beside him. He tossed the small object into the air and, with a flick of his wand and a murmured incantation, watched as the trunk returned to normal size. This must be _his _trunk, he knew it - felt it, even.

Why had he hidden it within the locket? What could the trunk contain? He didn't know, but he intended to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Some spoilers for DH. AU - obviously.

Short, but I hope they will be longer in the future. Sorry for the wait. Insert excuse here :D

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken _- Robert Frost

Chapter Five  
Revelations and Visitations

What Aeon found in the trunk left him thoroughly disappointed. It was practically empty. There was a ring - a _broken_ ring - with a rather large crack in its black stone and then there was a cloak. It was odd looking, almost iridescent. He pulled it out and threw it over him to get a better feel of it. He gasped when his body disappeared from view. Shaking, he tore it off of him. It must be an invisibility cloak. Hmm. Why would he have an invisibility cloak? And, better yet, why was it hidden? He didn't know, he only knew, without a doubt, that it was _his_, just like he knew the wand was his. The ring, on the other hand, he felt no such connection with. Then, he saw it. A wand. It was his wand, he knew it, he could _feel _it. Almost reverently, he ran one slender finger along it before grasping it and removing it from the compartment. He felt better, _safer_, almost immediately. There was also a set of clothing, but they were odd to him. Trousers and a button-down shirt. _Muggle_ fashion, his mind supplied. It didn't make sense that he would have muggle clothing, but he supposed he might have had a reason before. Next to the set of clothing was a money bag. He didn't need to lift it to know that. He could see the Galleons glittering inside from here.

"What's this?" he breathed, finally coming to the bottom of the small trunk where there was an ancient looking book. He chewed on his bottom lip, his hand held, hesitantly, above it, his breath hitching in his throat, fear coursing through his body. Finally, he reached down and pulled the book out, dropping the invisibility cloak as he did. Across the front of the book, written in spidery handwritting was its title, written in a language that Aeon did not understand. Shivering, he dropped the book back down into the trunk.

He choked on a sob as he closed the trunk. He threw himself back onto the settee, pulling his legs up to his chin. His chest ached terribly, the sudden hope he'd felt at discovering the trunk was gone, and in its place was despair. There was nothing, _nothing_, nothing inside to tell him why he'd gone to Walburga Black's house. There was nothing inside to tell him what had happened to him, or who he was. He was still just as alone as took one deep breath and then another in a vain attempt at calming himself. It was foolish for him to feel so completely alone when the house was full of people, even now he could hear the music from the ball drifting upstairs. He had Narcissa and Severus, and well, he couldn't really count Lucius or the Dark Lord, but perhaps when he was better, he could meet the rest of the family. Narcissa didn't seem too keen on Aeon meeting her sister, Bellatrix, but tomorrow there was to be a family Christmas dinner which they would both attend. He wasn't alone, he knew that intellectually, but he could not help feeling alone.

He felt drained, physically, magically, emotionally... He felt so utterly exhausted, so he was not surprised a bit when the weariness creeping in on him pulled him under. He was surprised, however, when he woke up in his bed - and not the settee where he most certainly had fallen asleep - with a familiar figure beside him - the Dark Lord.

The man was peering at him, most unnervingly, his crimson eyes seemed to almost probe Aeon for some hidden information, but he did not feel the tell-tale brush of Legilimency. The silence stretched on for some time before Aeon felt compelled to break it.

"Happy Christmas," he murmured.

Lord Voldemort sucked in a harsh breath, he thrust his hand towards Aeon - a hand that contained the broken ring from his trunk. "Where did you get this?" he inquired softly. There was an odd edge to his tone that frightened Aeon.

"It was in my trunk -" Aeon began.

"The trunk that until today did not appear to exist," the Dark Lord stated.

"It existed. It was just... hidden."

"Hidden?" The Dark Lord repeated with poorly disguised disgust. "Why? Why was it hidden? Were you trying to keep these items from me? How did they come to be in your possession?" Voldemort spat out one question after another, never giving Aeon a chance to answer.

Aeon gasped as the man's anger cause pain to erupt white-hot from the scar on his forehead. He pressed his hands against it desperately in an attempt to block the pain.

"Answer me!" snarled the enraged man. "That makes _two_ Slytherin family heirlooms currently in your possession, Mister Black, and I want to know why!"

Aeon was confused. Slytherin heirlooms? The locket, yes, he supposed, that was a Slytherin heirloom, wasn't it? It didn't say, of course, but the ornate S and the snake certainly seemed to suggest so. The ring, however? There were no such markings. It was just a broken ring! "I don't know! I can't remember," he cried, his heart beginning to beat erratically.

Though this seemed to be the answer Lord Voldemort had expected, it certainly didn't please him. "I am sorry for that," he said, a strange look upon his face. He leveled his wand on Aeon.

Fear gripped him in that moment. He frantically ripped the locket from his neck, pushing it towards the Dark Lord. "Take it! You can have it. I don't _want_ it."

Surprised flitting across his face, Voldemort lowered his wand. Without speaking another word, he pocketed the locket and exited the bedroom.

Exhausted and utterly spent, he fell back against the pillows, panting softly. A few moments passed, and then Severus, look rather pale and more than a bit frazzled, entered the room. He was at Aeon's side at once.

"Are you well?" he inquired softly, searching him for any injuries.

"I am unharmed," replied Aeon, carefully. Severus scoffed, pressing a handkerchief against his forehead. Aeon hissed in pain when the soft cloth touched him.

"Are you?" sneered Severus.

Aeon sighed. "I am," he insisted.

"Foolish, _reckless_... " Severus murmured, casting a series of diagnostic spells. He fixed narrowed eyes on Aeon. "You are weak - weaker than you were even this afternoon." He looked quite perplexed. "What transpired between you and the Dark Lord? It isn't my place to question you, I am aware of that, yet I cannot help but think that he has something to do with your condition." He said this almost unwillingly, a frown playing on his thin lips.

"Nothing happened!" said Aeon at once. He took a deep breath, several in fact, until his breathing returned to its more even pace."

Severus simply quirked an eyebrow. "Nonetheless, you seem to have experienced a slight set back. I would normally suggest that you spend the rest of the night resting, but I'm afraid you are due to have another visitor any moment now. For that, I offer you my sincerest apologies."

Now it was Aeon who looked perplexed. "A visitor?" he queried. "Whoever could it be?" he murmured to himself.

Severus scowled. "Bellatrix Lestrange nee _Black_," he replied darkly. "Narcissa's sister. I tried to detain her, but she insisted upon seeing you, once she became aware of your existence. "

Aeon looked vaguely intrigued at the idea of a new family member though his heart was beating rapidly once more. Severus wasn't able to say more, as the door opened again and a tall, dark-haired woman strolled through, Narcissa on her heels. At the sight of her, rage filled Aeon. Never had he felt such anger, such exquisite anger... The urge to cause the unknown woman bodily harm was almost too much to bear. The only thing that stayed his hand was knowing that he was in no shape to do so. Nevertheless, he was instantly alert and on guard.

"Bella, you _must_..." Narcissa was saying when she entered.

But the woman, Bellatrix, ignored her. She was at Aeon's side in an instant, her dark eyes scrutinizing him. "He doesn't seem like much," she commented dismissively to Narcissa. Her eyes were drawn to the still bleeding wound on his forehead. She reached out a single finger to touch it, and Aeon flinched, drawing back from her violently.

"_Do not touch me!_" he snarled, surprising himself with his own vehemence.

She blinked, stunned for the briefest moment. "What is this? Do you not know who I am? Has your traitor of a father not touch you any manners, you filthy little half-blood?" She breathed softly. Her voice was saccharine, as was her smile, though it was all a bit much, and her widened eyes bespoke of the madness that surely resided within her. She turned to Narcissa. "Perhaps you should allow me to teach our pretty little cousin here some manners..." She trailed off at Narcissa's horrified expression.

"No!" exclaimed the blonde woman. "You musn't!"

Bellatrix sniffed derisively. "Don't worry your empty little head, sister of mine," she sang out mockingly. "I won't touch him - wouldn't want to sully my hands with his taint." Aeon tensed at her words, his hands clenched in tight fists at his side. She continued. "How weak motherhood is making you, Cissy. You used to be a force to be reckoned with. Where is the girl I once knew? How can you remain in this gilded cage day after day doing nothing when revolution is at our very doors!"

Narcissa stiffed. "I am _not _weak!"

A delicate dark brow rose slightly. "Hmm," she said, noncommittally. "Perhaps not..." Seemingly satisfied, for the moment, Bellatrix set her sight now on Severus. She glided over to where he stood. "Why, if it isn't our little Potion Master!" she crowed. "How good to see you again... how's your little mudblood? I heard from the little rat that she's carrying the filthy spawn of that Potter boy she married..."

Severus trembled with rage. "Do not speak of her to me - _do not." _

Bellatrix shrugged, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "Come now, Severus, don't be so unpleasant. She's just a _mudblood_, no better than an animal... why should you care if she becomes the broodmare for the Potters?" She paused, delicately. "Not that your blood is much cleaner than hers... How _is_ your father these days?"

All of the color drained out of Severus's face. He recovered quickly. "Much better since he left this world," Severus retorted. "His life was a present from the Dark Lord, you know. I must admit, Bella, that I'm surprised Rodolphus allowed you out of bed so soon after your.. _accident_. You are looking well." He smiled, it was a frightening sight. "You seem so fixated on motherhood. Tell me, is it because you wish to be a mother yourself? A pity that you have been unsuccessful in your attempts so far. This latest miscarriage makes... three, does it not? Poor Rodolphus, at this rate he'll never have an heir..." Severus trailed off.

Aeon watched as Bellatrix became unhinged. Her dark eyes wide with madness, her wand trained decidedly on Severus. Her lip curled into a sneer. "You _dare_ to say such things to me?"

A smooth, cultured voice echoed through the room then. "Bella..." It was Lucius, his tone quite disappointing. "Need I remind you that you are in _my _home? I'll not having you cursing my guests." His eyes swept over her, sighing as he did so. "The Dark Lord requires your presence now, if you think you can present yourself accordingly?"

Bellatrix bared her teeth at Lucius before shooting a smug look in Severus's direction. Then her eyes rested on Aeon. "I shall visit you again, I think. Quite interesting how you've both my sister _and_ Severus rallying for you... quite interesting, indeed."

A collective sigh of relief went through the room when she was gone. Lucius and Severus shared a significant look before leaving as well. Narcissa, alone, remained with him.

With some effort, she smoothed the stony look off of her face. She pressed a kiss to Aeon's forehead. "I must return to the ball," she murmured, a bit despondently.

Aeon nodded, saying nothing. His mind was reeling. His face scrunched in consternation as he contemplated his reaction to the woman, Bellatrix. Even the Dark Lord had not elicited such anger from him. Why had she?


	6. AN

Hey everyone!

Updates have been ridiculously slow in coming, I know. I've no excuse other than school and a general lack of motivation. However, a break from school, work, and writing has given me a much needed push to finish things up. The only problem being that I have far too many fics. I cannot possibly update them all with any regularity once school commences next week. So, what I have decided to do is take a vote. The two fics garnering the highest votes will be the ones updated weekly until they are finished. I also will be making thorough outlines (something I have not done in the past) for the other fics. I am not abandoning any fic, so you need not worry! :D I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a lovely New Year.

_~ Koinaka_

Feel free to pm me with any questions you may have.


	7. Chapter 6

Alright! Thank you to everyone who voted. Harry Potter & the Walking Shadow finished in first place with Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time finishing in second place. I've been trying, badly I might add, to write _something_ - anything really - for the last week but was unable to do so. Finally the other day I sat to writing and started this chapter. I shall endeavor to be more timely in my updates. I will update once a week for either fic _if_ I am able to write, I don't want to force it and lessen the quality of my writing or the fic itself. That being said, I hope you enjoy this and be sure to review or message me with any feedback or questions you may have. I am going to stick as closely to canon's timeline as I can. Next chapter will see Aeon venturing outside of Malfoy Manor for the first time. Does anyone have any specific character they would like to see Aeon interact with?

* * *

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

_

* * *

_

Chapter Six  
Of gifts and favors

It was an unfortunate thing indeed for Aeon to discover that life - and time - continued to go on despite the fact that his very existence had come to a complete standstill. His strength returned to him slowly, his magic returned at an even slower pace. His memory, however, did not return much to his - and Severus' - chagrin. By the time spring arrived, Aeon had given up hope of it ever returning. Severus, who had become his close friend, his only friend, really, had not but Aeon thought it was only a matter of time before he did as well. He spent his days either staring listlessly outside the large picture window in his bedroom when the weather was poorly or lounging about the garden if the weather permitted. He read, devoured priceless book after priceless book on an infinite amount of subjects.

His nights, however, were filled with terror and mayhem. After discovering his hidden trunk and its contents, he began to have nightmares. He suspected, however, that they were more than that. He believed them to be visions of the future. He knew the idea of him having _visions of the future_ was rather far-fetched, but he had no other explanation as to why he would be dreaming of a much older angrier Severus and a serpentine Dark Lord. They weren't exactly proper dreams or visions as they were muted in detail. He felt very sure that whilst he was experiencing these dreams that he was aware of what they held.

Upon awaking, though, he was left with only vague impressions of their contents that faded quickly. By the time he was fully awake, nothing remained with him at all, so he had taken to scribbling the events of the visions, what he could recall, quickly into a journal that he kept by his bedside. Not that that helped him in the slightest as his entries were rather disjointed and almost always nonsensical, but it was something.

Sometimes his visions were just that: visions. He often dreamed of the Dark Lord as he was now. In fact, he experienced these dreams as if he were the Dark Lord! Had he not seen proof - in the form of the _Daily Prophet_ - that the events in these dreams had actually occurred, he might have shook off all of the dreams as merely dreams. He could not, however, explain these away and was forced to admit that it seemed he did, in fact, seem to have some sort of gift in divination. It was quite reluctantly, at first, that he admitted this.

There were no words to describe the Dark Lord's elation upon discovering Aeon's gift. A shiver went through Aeon as he recalled that day.

"You're a _seer_. Do you think it's possible, Severus? Truly?" the man had breathed, his intense eyes never once leaving Aeon's.

Severus's expression had been inscrutable before a look of realization had come upon him. "I think... perhaps you are correct, my Lord. I had not thought of it before as it is _quite_ rare indeed, but there is a possibility that he is a seer. I may be mistaken, but I seem to recall that it is not entirely unheard of - though as I've said it is quite rare - for those who come into their gifts suddenly _may_ suffer memory loss as a result of their mind's acclimation of their gift."

"Is that so?" the Dark Lord had inquired, going quite still and thoughtful.

Severus' brow furrowed as he studied Aeon's face before turning back to face the Dark Lord. "Yes, I do believe that I once read about a prophetess who entered into a state of mental fugue upon coming into her gift. So complete was her fugue that she knew not even her name. Her memory never returned and to this day, she is only known as Vestia, a name derived from the Latin term for prophetess."

That one proclamation had left devastated Aeon. Faced with a gift that he neither understood nor wanted, he set about to learn everything he could about divination. When he exhausted the supply of books in the manor's library on divination, the Dark Lord supplied him with tome after tome. To his immense relief - and the Dark Lord's disappointment - it did not seem he was capable of controlling these visions. They came or did not come as they pleased. Those that seemed to take place in the near future, he remembered with stunning clarity. Those that seemed to occur in the distant future, he could not recall past the disjointed entries in his journal.

Despite all of this, he was almost... content with his circumstances most days. _Most days_. Today was not such a day.

The morning had started off as any other morning. Aeon took breakfast with Narcissa in her private rooms. She had been placed on strict bed rest after a number of complications that nearly cost her the life of her child. This caused no small amount of unhappiness for the vivacious woman. Their meal was subdued as Narcissa was feeling rather tetchy as her sister had taken it upon herself to move into the manor under the guise of caring for Narcissa. Both Narcissa and Aeon knew the real reason why.

Aeon discovered that the initial anger and hatred he felt towards the woman was not misplaced on Christmaa. For a reason still unknown to Aeon, she had stalked into his chambers on Christmas morning and without even a _by your leave_ turned her wand on Aeon. He shuddered, even now, four months later, at the remembered pain of the _Cruciatus_ curse. It would be the first and last time she would harm him as only moments later the Dark Lord had appeared nearly apoplectic in his rage. This did not, however, stop her from tormenting him. She disparaged his parents, his blood status, his intelligence, his memory - or lack thereof - and any number of other areas she found him lacking in. Since moving in, she had become a burr under his saddle in every possible way.

Halfway through their morning meal, the vile woman had strolled into the room, her dark eyes glittering, her lips curled into a sneer and began spouting her usual vitriol.

Aeon's lips thinned into a hard line, but he did not retort. Instead, he merely arched a sculptured brow. "Morning not to your standards, _Cousin_?" he asked, placing a delicate emphasis on their familial relationship.

The woman snarled, her entire body trembling though she dared not raise her wand towards him. "The Dark Lord requests your presence in his study. Immediately," she bit out through clenched teeth, obviously very unhappy about the information.

Aeon stood, smiled sweetly at Bellatrix, and left after pressing a kiss to Narcissa's brow.

The Dark Lord's study was adjacent to his chambers across from Aeon's own chambers, and upon arriving, Aeon discovered that the Dark Lord was not alone both Lucius and Severus were with him. Aeon nodded his greeting towards Lucius and Severus before bowing briefly to the Dark Lord.

"You needed to see me?" he inquired.

"Lucius has brought some very interesting news to my attention," the man began with no preamble. "It seems that Hogwarts is in need of a Divination professor."

"Really?" He asked as he cast a sidelong glance to his cousin's husband. Similar to Bellatrix, Aeon held a certain amount of dislike towards the man. Dislike that was quite mutual as Lucius had made his feelings towards Aeon perfectly clear though he had been generous enough to allow him to stay in Malfoy Manor no matter his personal feelings.

"Yes. As you are in need of employment, Lucius has so graciously used his position as a member of the Board of Governors to secure you an interview for the post," the Dark Lord continued.

Aeon sucked in a sharp breath, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. "That is... quite generous indeed. I was unaware that I had the proper qualifications needed to become a professor."

Here Lucius spoke up. "You'll find, Black, that it is laughably easy for the proper paperwork to be obtained if, that is, you have the right connections. It just so happens that I have the connections as well as the wealth needed to obtain said paperwork. I took it upon myself to obtain these items for you." Lucius handed Aeon a bundle of parchment. "You will find everything that you should require within," he finished with a flourish.

"I am in your debt," said Aeon, then, before stopping briefly to examine the bundle of parchment.

"Despite the loss of your personal history, your memories of your magical education are in tact. I would go so far as to say that you were a more than competent student as you are, even in your reduced state, quite powerful," the Dark Lord continued seeming to sense Aeon's impending protests. "I am well aware that you have no desire to pledge your life and loyalty to me nor do I intend to ask you to do so. At this time. _However_, I would consider it a great personal favor if you were to, at the very least, attend the interview that Lucius was so good to obtain for you."

His pretty words did not erase the meaning behind them. Aeon may not have participated in any of the many occurrences he had born witness to, but he knew, better than most he'd wager, exactly what the Dark Lord was capable of, and he knew, very well, that the Dark Lord did not make requests for _favors_. He made demands. He did not _request. _

"And if I am appointed to the post?" he inquired lightly.

"Then, I would give you my most sincerest congratulations and wish you well. I would only ask that you pass along any information you come across that may be of benefit to our _cause_."

Aeon sucked in another harsh breath. "You wish for me to _spy _for you."

The Dark Lord's mouth tightened. "If you wish to term it as such..."

Aeon continued on undeterred. "You wish for me to spy on _Albus Dumbledore_, one of the - if not _the_- most powerful wizards of the day."

Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. "I would tread lightly if I were you, Black, and remember to whom you are speaking. I'll not have you address me so impetuously. I have been lenient towards you, all things considered. It was not Lucius but myself who hired the team of healers that worked day and night to restore your magic and your health. I have bestowed upon you priceless books, and I have asked for nothing in return. Until now. I would like for you to choose this on your own accord, but you _will_ do this, whether you wish to or not."

Aeon closed his mouth with a snap, bristling immediately. Now it was _his_ eyes that narrowed. "And if I were to choose to leave instead? My benefactor you may have been, but I am under no obligation to serve you in _any_ capacity, and this is no mere _favor_ you ask of me."

"_Crucio_," the Dark Lord breathed out almost lazily, his nostrils flaring.

Pain flared white hot through his body. It was worse than anything he had felt before. It was relentless, never ending. Finally, it was over, and he found himself laying on the floor panting softly, his arm twitching uselessly beside him.

"Your appointment is tomorrow afternoon at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. Severus will accompany you. You should address any further questions you may have to him. Should you choose to decline my most generous offer and _leave_... well, then, your life would be forfeit. I do beg you to reconsider your position as it would be frivolous to waste such a talent, and I would be displeased to be forced to kill you, but kill you I would."

He gestured towards Severus who moved to Aeon's side immediately. Gently, Severus pulled him to his feet and lead him down the hall to his quarters. He saw a still shaking Aeon safely to his bed and pressed a pain potion into his hand before leaving with promises of returning later.


	8. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken _- Robert Frost

_

* * *

_

Chapter Seven  
Of Recklessness and Prophecies

Aeon groaned loudly as he came back to full consciousness. He pressed a hand to his forehead only to have it batted away by another pair of hands.

"Foolish boy," muttered Severus darkly. "I would ask what you were thinking antagonizing the Dark Lord in such a manner, but it is quite obvious that you weren't thinking at all!"

Then the hands returned to his forehead, this time bringing with them some sort of salve that cooled his feverish skin at once. Aeon sighed in relief and his eyes fluttered close once more.

"Foolish, reckless..." Severus' rant continued.

Aeon scowled, opening his eyes so that he could look at Severus properly. "I won't allow myself to be used! I don't owe the Dark Lord anything - not allegiance, not loyalty, and certainly not obedience."

Severus paled, his eyes darting to and fro nervously, as if he expected some one to pop out at any moment. "You mustn't say such things, Aeon! To do so is folly and tantamount to treason-"

Aeon snorted derisively, cutting his friend off in the process. "_Treason?_" he asked, incredulously, his lips curling into a sneer as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "Despite whatever... delusions of grandeur ... the Dark Lord may have, he is not yet in charge of the wizarding world, and as I do not wear his mark upon my arm, I'm not subject to his whims!"

"You cannot mean to do this, Aeon! If you refuse him, he will not hesitate in killing you! Is that what you want? To die a fool's death?"

Aeon's lips quirked into a small smile. "What's this, Severus? Concern - for me?"

Now it was Severus who sneered. "Hardly, Black. Merely irritation for having expounded so much effort in restoring you only to have you throw your life away! Have you any idea what a privilege it would be to be given such an opportunity? You have a chance to teach at one of the finest educational establishments, and all you have to do in return is spy on Dumbledore!"

Aeon made a noise of disagreement in his throat. "All I have to do is spy on Dumbledore? _All_ I have to do? Well, why didn't you say so?"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you nor does petulance. Now, come along. You are expected at dinner in half an hour's time, and I daresay you shall need all of that time to smarten yourself up. I've left a pain potion for you if you've any lingering pain," Severus said before sweeping from the room.

Dinner was a terse affair. He wasn't accustomed to dining with Death Eaters, and he found most of their company odoriferous on the best of occasions, and this certainly was not the best of occasions.

Aeon remained silent for most of the meal, picking at his food and taking occasional sips of wine, generally ignoring the conversations around him. That is until he noticed the dark look Bellatrix was giving him from beside her husband, Rodolphus. He turned to Severus and gave him a sly smile.

"Say, Severus, have you heard the good news? I was reading the _Daily Prophet only yesterday and discovered t_he Weasley broodmare gave birth to her _sixth _child not even a fortnight ago..."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Yes. Seems so extraordinary that the Weasley's have become so... _plentiful _... when other families remain barren."

There was a shriek followed by the sound of crystal breaking. "You _filthy_ little half-blood, you dare to imply -"

"I imply nothing, Cousin. Do sit down. You're making a spectacle of yourself. It's a wonder your husband allows you to leave the house at all if this is how you act..."

"Allows_? Allows?_ My husband does not control me!"

"_That _is apparent," Aeon replied.

Bellatrix let out another shriek of rage before training her wand on Aeon.

"Now, now, Bellatrix, we musn't curse one another at the dinner table. It isn't proper," Lucius said, finally turning away from his conversation with a twitchy little man Aeon thought was called Crouch. "It would be a shame to discover that a half-blood had better breeding than you, now wouldn't it?"

Aeon's eyes narrowed but he smiled prettily at Lucius. "Speaking of breeding, Lucius, you certainly wasted no time in moving Narcissa to separate quarters. Could this have anything to do with the scantily clad boy I saw fleeing down the hall last night? It would be most unfortunate for her to discover your dalliances when she's in such a delicate condition, her belly ripe with_ your _heir, but I daresay she would thank me for my honesty."

Lucius's nose flared. "You go too far, Black." He went to pull out his wand but Crouch grasped his wrist tightly.

"The Dark Lord said he isn't to be harmed, Malfoy," the man told him in a no-nonsense tone.

"Of course, Barty. It wouldn't do for the Dark Lord's little _catamite _to suffer any injury."

"Is that jealousy I sense, Lucius?" Aeon asked. "Though if you must know, I am far from the Dark Lord's catamite, so you needn't worry that I've usurped your position."

"Enough." The Dark Lord came through the doorway of the dinning room, his expression thunderous. The room fell silent at once. "I've just gotten word that Rosier was killed this evening while attempting to evade arrest. His death along with the imprisonment of Karkaroff has left us weakened. I will not tolerate you fighting amongst yourselves! Severus, you are to accompany young Black back to his room and ensure that he is prepared for his interview. More than adequately prepared, Severus. The rest of you, come with me."

Severus spent the next several hours telling Aeon what to expect from Dumbledore with barely suppressed rage.

"What exactly has Dumbledore done to you to warrant such hostility?" he inquired, considering Severus with a great deal of curiosity.

"It's what he hasn't done that's the problem. For years, he practically sanctioned the deliberate and malicious cruelty his pet Gryffindors enacted on other students. He cares only for those whom he favors!"

"Perhaps," Aeon allowed. "But he must have had his reasons-"

"There is nothing," Severus snarled, "that would excuse allowing a would-be murderer and a foul beast to escape without so much as a detention!" He snapped his mouth shut abruptly. With some effort, he was able to calm himself. "You would do well to be wary of Dumbledore. Do not trust him. Do not allow yourself to fall prey to his lies."

Aeon cocked his head to the side. "What lies, pray tell, do you think he would tell me, and for what reason? For all of your accusations and insinuations, Albus Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, a wizard who has devoted the better part of a century to promoting the betterment of the wizarding world -"

"The betterment of the wizarding world? Surely you jest! Dumbledore is nothing but a fool." He gave Aeon a pointed look. "Anyone who willingly chooses to oppose the Dark Lord is."

Aeon gave a little shrug. "I don't think Dumbledore much cares about that, do you? After all, he's already defeated one dark wizard. Grindelwald, remember? I reckon he is more than able to defeat another." Aeon's tone was one of complete disinterest as if he was only speaking of the weather.

Severus shook his head. "You can't understand, Black. You have no personal experience, no knowledge of Dumbledore's ways!"

"True," Aeon once more allowed. "But I also have no biases. I am able to look at things more objectively than you are, perhaps. I'm not saying that Dumbledore has the right idea or anything. I think that while some of his contributions to wizarding society are helpful, others aren't useful at all. Take the restriction of the Dark Arts for example. Completely ridiculous. There's no such thing as good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. Muggles are tricky business though. There are a lot more of them than us, you know, and their weapons are formidable. Best for all to keep things as they are - separate. You see, I won't blindly follow Dumbledore but neither will I blindly follow the Dark Lord."

Severus' look was one of horror, so Aeon quickly continued. "He's all I know," he confessed in a hushed voice. "All I think about, all I want, all I _have_, but something isn't right with him! Surely you can see that. The way he acts, the things he's done - horrible, violent things - aren't reasonable, and they aren't the way to achieve revolution. What he's doing, this mindless killing, is genocide. It's evil, Sev. It's _wrong_."

Severus clapped his hand over Aeon's mouth. "Don't say another word! You've already said far too much. I shan't tell because I've come to care for you as a friend, but you mustn't say another word! If you do, I'll be forced to inform the Dark Lord of your treachery."

Frowning, Aeon acquiesced - for the moment. "Tell me about Hogwarts, then," he said instead.

Thankful for the reprieve, Severus launched into a lengthy discussion of the houses of Hogwarts and their various merits and demerits. Aeon listened all the while thinking about his upcoming interview. While he wasn't exactly looking forward to it, he had no intention of refusing the position if it was offered to him. He would be afforded a great deal of freedom as a professor not to mention access to the large amount of scholarship contained within the library held at the school or the fact that he would be free of Lucius' and Bellatrix's noxious company. Not only that, but he was just now beginning to realize the very real danger he was in. If he took the position, he would be able to board at the school, meaning he would be away from the Dark Lord for the majority of the year. On one hand, the thought of being away from Narcissa and Severus and everything else he had become accustomed to was terrifying, but on the other hand, he knew this was something he ought to do - something he _had _to do. He needn't spy on Dumbledore if he didn't wish to.

It was very late when Severus left his quarters and even later when his door opened once more. Silently, the Dark Lord entered his room and closed the door softly behind him. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed Aeon was still awake, but he said nothing. Instead, he walked over and placed a ring on Aeon's bedside table. It was the odd ring Aeon had discovered in his trunk only it was no longer broken.

"As of late," the Dark Lord began, "I find myself inexplicably drawn to you. That leaves me in a rather uncomfortable position as I find you a most bewildering and perplexing individual. You've no past, no memories - it's almost as if you simply appeared on the doorstep of Walburga Black out of thin air carrying two priceless treasures long thought lost forever, treasures belonging to the Slytherin line. You are also in possession of a magical gift exclusive to the Slytherin line - Parseltongue. It is all very curious. Even more curious is the fact that, according to one of my sources within the Ministry, there is no record of a magical child ever being born to Alphard Black."

"What does that mean?" queried Aeon, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. "If my father isn't Alphard Black - and I can't see how that could be - why would I have certification that says he is?"

"_That_ is the question, isn't it?" He drew closer to Aeon, reaching one pale hand out to trace the lightening-shaped scar on his forehead.

Aeon shuddered at the contact - in pain or pleasure he couldn't say.

"Even curiouser," the Dark Lord murmured. "We are connected, you and I, not only magically but mentally as well. The proof is incontrovertible. I am fully aware that whilst you are sleeping, you often visit my mindscape. Keep in mind that it is only because I allow you to do so that you are able to. In much the same manner, I can visit your mindscape as well, but it is not without a great deal of pain that I am able to do so. You are protected in some way. How, I cannot yet determine, but the fact remains that you are."

"C-connected?" Aeon asked, drawing in a shaky breath as the Dark Lord drew even closer to Aeon until there were only inches separating the two, until Aeon could practically taste him on his lips.

Then the Dark Lord's lips were on his. It was then that Aeon realized, truly realized, he was doomed because once the Dark Lord's lips touched him, he was lost. Gasping, he strained to move closer to the Dark Lord until he was practically melded to the man. There was nothing gentle about him. His lips were harsh and demanding only pulling away when Aeon was dizzy from lack of breath. His breath came out in pants as the Dark Lord trailed kisses along Aeon's neck before biting down on the juncture where he neck met his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Blood that he could taste on his tongue when their lips met again.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, and the Dark Lord was retreating from the room. Aeon was surprised to discover that the Dark Lord had, at some point during their kiss, placed the ring on his finger. He was even more surprised to discover that no amount of force would remove it.

The next morning he had breakfast with Narcissa though he scarcely ate a bite, so nervous he was.

"How's my little dragon?" he asked, placing his hand on Narcissa's belly. He grinned when he felt a soft but a discernible kick against his palm.

"You're in a good mood this morning," Narcissa commented. "Excited about your interview?"

Aeon nodded. "Excited, yes, but nerve-wrecked more like. How are _you?_ Is the little dragon being good to you today?"

Narcissa gave him a bright smile. "I am fine, darling cousin. Don't fret about the interview. You'll do brilliantly, I'm sure. Now, then, tell me why you continue to insist on calling my child your little dragon?"

Aeon shrugged. "That is to be his name, is it not? Draco?"

Narcissa sucked in a harsh breath. "_Yes_, but how did you _know_? It is customary to keep the name of the heir secret until the naming ceremony. Only the parents are privy to it, so again I ask you - _how did you know_?

Aeon took in her startled expression. "I don't know. It's just... I don't know how I know only that I know. His name is Draco."

A silence lapsed over the two for several minutes.

"I should go," Aeon said at last when it became apparent Narcissa had no intention of speaking to him further. "Severus is to accompany me to Hogsmeade. I shall visit you later, and tell you how the interview went."

Severus was waiting for him at the entry way of Malfoy Manor. "Ready?" he asked. Aeon nodded and took the proffered arm. A moment later, Severus apparated them both to the edge of Hogsmeade. It was raining when they appeared in the wizarding village, so he quickly raised the hood on his cloak.

The entirety of Aeon's world since December had only encompassed Malfoy Manor. The only people he had contact with were the Dark Lord, the Malfoys, Severus and the other Death Eaters. He'd almost forgotten that there was an entire world beyond that. Intelligently, theoretically he'd known, but there was a difference in knowing and being confronted with it. He observed Hogsmeade with wide-eyed awe and absolutely no recognition. He hadn't thought he would recognize anything but he had hoped that he might. He did, however, find himself drawn to a worn path with a small sign that read: TO HOGWARTS.

Severus eyed him warily. "Come along, Aeon," he murmured, guiding Aeon towards the Hog's Head with a hand placed gently on his lower back.

Aeon allowed himself to be lead but was unable to stop himself from periodically glancing over his shoulder to the pathway. They stopped abruptly in front of the establishment.

"This is as far as I can accompany you," Severus told him. "Do be careful, hmm? I will be most vexed if you somehow manage to harm yourself in my absence..." he trailed off, leaving Aeon little doubt as to who, precisely, would be vexed if Aeon was harmed.

Absently, Aeon nodded. He took a deep breath and then pushed open the heavy door to the bar. Once inside, he cringed immediately as a sour smell reached his nostrils. He gave a precursory glance around the room before heading towards the bar. He maneuvered through the crowd of unkempt patrons carefully so that he did not so much as brush against anyone else.

"What'll it be, lad?" asked the barkeep, his voice gravely with disuse.

"I've a meeting," Aeon stated, "with Albus Dumbledore. He should be expecting me."

The man merely grunted out, "Room 206," before turning away from Aeon.

Aeon's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. He climbed the narrow staircase to the second floor with his heartbeat resounding loudly in his ears.

"Enter," said a voice within the room before Aeon so much as knocked on the door.

Not stopping to wonder how exactly Dumbledore had known he was there, Aeon entered the room only to freeze in place. A whirlwind of emotions clamored for control as he looked at the wizard before him - anger, longing, but above all sorrow. He had seen photographs of Dumbledore in books, but that was different from being in his presence. Like Bellatrix and the Dark Lord before, he knew this man! But how? And why did he feel as if his heart might beat out of his chest at any moment? Why did he feel as if he might burst from the longing he felt?

"Mr. Black, are you well?"

Aeon shook himself out of the stupor he had fallen into. Seeing Dumbledore's concerned expression, Aeon nodded. "Yes, quite well."

Dumbledore gave him a gentle smile. "Please sit," he motioned towards the chair across from him.

Aeon did as he was bade. The headmaster's keen blue eyes studied him for several long seconds. Aeon's eyes met his briefly before he tore them away, choosing instead to fixate on the tea service sitting between them.

"Would you care for a cuppa?" Dumbledore inquired politely.

Aeon nodded. "Yes, please."

Dumbledore poured some into a cup and offered the cup to Aeon, smiling at Aeon's murmured, "Thank you."

"That is a rather interesting ring," he commented as Aeon added both cream and sugar into his tea. His voice was light but his look belied his interest.

"It was a gift," Aeon responded carefully. Dumbledore seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding.

"Well, then, let's get started," he began jovially. "Tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Black. I confess myself to be intrigued by your presence as I was unaware that Alphard Black had married."

Severus had coached him on the background story Lucius and the Dark Lord had invented, but now, sitting here across from Albus Dumbledore, he found himself unable to go along with it. Just like he couldn't lie to the Dark Lord, he couldn't lie to the Headmaster.

"I'm afraid there is very little I can tell you," Aeon said, regretfully. "I have no memories of my past."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. "Is that so?" At Aeon's nod, he continued. "Were you in an accident, then?"

"No accident that I know of," he answered truthfully. "We aren't sure what happened, truly. We've only speculation, but you needn't worry. My knowledge of magic and magical theory is in tact."

"Ah. That's fine. Why do you think you would be well suited to teach Divination?" Dumbledore queried next.

"I don't think I would be," Aeon said, at once. "That is to say that I find the idea of teaching Divination more than a little absurd. With all due respect, sir."

Dumbledore looked quite interested now. "Really? How so?"

"It''s not something you can teach. Either you have the gift or you do not. At most, the only thing I could do is teach them the theory behind things such as prophecy and the meaning of dreams. I could, of course, teach them of the stars, but a centaur would have a better grip as to their meaning - stars are quite fickle, you know - but everything else is little more parlor tricks."

"And do _you _possess the gift?"

Aeon hesitated. He wasn't to speak of this, he knew, but he felt almost compelled to do so.

"I think I must. We, my cousins and I, well, we think that perhaps the arrival of my gift caused me to loose my memories. We can't be certain, of course, but there's evidence that this has happened before. And sometimes," here he took a deep breath, "sometimes I have dreams, odd dreams, dreams I can scarcely remember afterward.

"Thank you, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said after some time had passed. "I think that will be all. I shall owl you with my decision within the week." He stood, then.

Aeon did as well, giving the Headmaster a little bow. "Thank you for your consideration," he said before quickly exiting the room. As he was descending the staircase, he passed an odd woman. He didn't think much of her until he noticed Severus following closely behind her.

"Wait for me below," Severus told him as he passed.

Aeon nodded. He opened his mouth to further question Severus but he had disappeared under a disillusionment charm. He spent the next half-hour or so drinking butter beer at the bar. Then, suddenly, there was a large commotion upstairs as the rough looking barkeeper pulled Severus down the stairs and pushed him out the door.

"Don't come back, either," the man bellowed.

Aeon waited until the barkeeper was busy with another patron before slipping out the door himself to where Severus was waiting. Upon seeing Aeon, dragged him to where they could apparate.

"We must return home at once. I've something of great import to report to the Dark Lord."


	9. Chapter 8

I know, I know - it's been _ages_ since I updated this. Sorry for your terribly long wait! I've been struggling with this chapter as I wasn't sure how I wanted to proceed. I am still rather unhappy with it, but well, I suppose it'll do. Thanks for reading!

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

Chapter Eight  
Of Betrayal and Deception

When they'd reached the edge of Hogsmeade, Severus turned to him. His eyes were wild and frantic. He grabbed him and before Aeon had time to process what was happening, he apparated them both away. When they reappeared, they were in a very worn-looking drawing room.

"What – why have you brought me here?" he demanded.

"You must not return to Malfoy Manor," Severus said, his voice every bit as panicked as his expression.

"Whatever do you mean? Where else would I go? Malfoy Manor is my home, Sev."

Severus grasped his shoulder harshly and shook him. "I was sent here today not to accompany you on your interview but to spy on Sybil Trelawney's interview! Madam Trelawney has been in isolation for over a decade, and the Dark Lord felt certain there was a reason that she was moving about in public once more. He hoped that she would make a prophecy, one that would aid him."

With some effort, Aeon pulled himself out of Severus' grasp. "Am I to assume that he was correct? Did Madam Trelawney make a prophecy concerning the Dark Lord?"

Severus nodded after a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I heard only the beginning before being discovered, but that was more than enough. I must report this to the Dark Lord. _I must_."

"Of course you should report it to the Dark Lord," Aeon replied slowly, confusion laced within his words. "Whyever would you not? You are loyal to him, yes? What reason would you have to withhold such important information?"

Severus took in a deep shuddering breath. He reached out and traced the lightening-bolt shaped scar on Aeon's forehead. "You remind me very much of someone I once held dear. She was my closet friend – my _only _friend – until one day I made a terrible decision. A decision that cost me her friendship. Sometimes when I see you, I am very much reminded of her. I lost her friendship because I made the wrong decision. I will not make the same mistake twice. You must _not _return to Malfoy Manor, do you understand? When I tell him – if you return – he will kill you!"

"Kill me? Whatever for?" he asked thickly before falling silent. He stumbled backwards, his gray eyes wide. "The prophecy is about me, isn't it?"

Severus moved closer to him until they pressed closely together before breathing into Aeon's ear. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… marked by the King of the gods…_That was all I heard before I was forcibly ejected."

"But… that could mean anybody! _Anyone!_ Who's to say who the prophecy refers to?" Aeon laughed albeit nervously. "The King of the gods? That's just a load of rubbish." Not only was it rubbish, but it was all _wrong_. The wording felt all wrong. He frowned suddenly. "Are you quite sure that's what you heard?"

But Severus ignored Aeon's question. "Zeus, or Jupiter, was considered by the Greeks, or Romans, to be the King of the gods. His weapon of choice was a bolt of lightening." He lifted his hand up and traced the lightening-bolt shaped scar that lay upon Aeon's forehead once more. "It matters very little whether you are truly the one the prophecy refers to. He will think you are, and that is all that matters!"

Aeon sank down onto the dilapidated couch. "But... where am I supposed to go that he won't be able to follow? Do you think he will simply allow me to leave?"

"Go to Dumbledore. He will hide you away, I'm sure. Tell him whatever you must - tell him everything!" With every passing moment, Severus was becoming more and more frantic.

Aeon's heart was pounding loudly in his chest. "Alright," he said finally. "If you truly believe that I am in danger, I'll go." He paused. "But I must return to Malfoy Manor - if only to collect my things. Surely you can hold off telling him for that long."

Severus nodded. "If you must."

The manor was quiet when they returned. A bit too quiet, Aeon thought, but this was probably for the best. He hurried into his chamber with every intention of packing his belongings and fleeing as Severus suggested. However, he paused briefly when he caught sight of the long, peculiar looking wand in his trunk. Hesitantly, he grasped the wand only to find himself pulled forcibly into a vision. Only it wasn't like any vision he'd ever seen before. He found himself in a place that was very familiar to him though he was quite certain he had never been there in his life. The vision had an odd, dream-like quality to it. Aeon watch perplexed as an achingly familiar boy conversed with an aged Albus Dumbledore.

_"The unbeatable wand, the wand that would lead us to power!" _Dumbledore had told the boy. The Elder Wand, he had called it. Unbidden, his mind had produced an image of the very wand he held in his hand.

Was it possible that this was the wand that Dumbledore had spoken about so urgently? Even odder still was the fact that the content of the vision lingered even after it had played out. What did it all mean? Why had he witnessed what he could only describe as Dumbledore pleading for atonement? He had mentioned something called hallows, but what were they? What did it all mean? A cloak of invisibility had been mentioned as well. Hadn't he a cloak of invisibility? Aeon found it all incredibly curious.

A knock sounded at his chamber door. He scarcely had time to blink before the door opened, and Severus entered.

"Aeon? Are you ill?" Severus asked, a concerned look upon his face.

Slowly, Aeon nodded his head. It was true. He did feel decidedly ill. He couldn't leave the Manor. He couldn't leave the Dark Lord's side! Anger began to stir within him. Anger directed towards Severus. Without any hesitation, he allowed himself to train the wand in his hand on Severus. _Coward_, his mind snarled at Severus. _Traitor_.

Severus' brow furrowed in confusion as Aeon approached him. "I'm very sorry," Aeon told him. And he was that, but he simply couldn't allow Severus to tell the Dark Lord of the prophecy.

Severus was quick, perhaps even quicker than Aeon, but Dumbledore's pronouncement of the wand's nature rang true. Severus' _expelliarmus _had no impact, but Aeon's _obliviate_ landed with hardly any effort on his part. Quickly, he erased the prophecy from his friend's memories as well as the memories that followed. He fumbled briefly for a moment afterward. He could hardly leave gaping holes in Severus' memories. Not if he wished to remain undetected, that is. But he hadn't any clue what sort of memories to plant! He finally settled for something near the truth leaving the memory of Severus overhearing a portion of the prophecy but changing the phrase that would lead the Dark Lord to him. This version of the prophecy didn't feel quite so wrong. If anything it right, even if it caused a wave of foreboding to crash into him as he recalled the wording. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born as the seventh month dies_. Yes, much better. He felt almost if he had heard it before, but how could he have done? That ought not to lead the Dark Lord to question him, after all, as his birthday, according to his paperwork, was the 31st of October.

Once finished, he sagged to the ground feeling completely drained, the wand in his hand clattering to the ground as he did so.

There was a brief pause before Severus' eyes focused once more. He sighed as he knelt down beside Aeon. "Foolish boy," he said not unkindly. He ran a diagnostic spell over him and frowned at the results. "Nothing seems to be amiss. Perhaps you merely over extended yourself. Into bed with you. I'll bring you a Pepper-up Potion after I give my report to the Dark Lord."

He helped Aeon off the floor and into his bed before walking towards the door. Once at the door, he turned to look at Aeon once more, his brow furrowed and his look expectant. He opened his mouth as if to speak but no words came. Finally, after another moment's hesitation, he left the room.

The moment the door closed, Aeon sprang up from the bed. What had he done? How could he have been so foolish? He had erased Severus' memories of the original prophecy but to what avail? Severus may have no memories of the event, but if the Dark Lord decided to investigate matters further, it was very likely he would notice that something was amiss. Would Aeon be able to deceive him if it came down to that? That was doubtful as he had a hard time keeping anything from the Dark Lord. He would simply have to ensure that he gave the Dark Lord no reason to suspect him.

He slept fitfully that night. The Dark Lord's wrath upon hearing Severus' news of a prophecy that bespoke his downfall was great, and his anger had never failed to cause Aeon pain. He awoke the next morning to a tapping at his window. It was an owl carrying a heavy looking envelope. Furrowing his brow, he got out of bed and opened the window to allow the owl entrance to his room.

On one side, written in rich emerald ink, was his exact location:

_Aeon Black  
Room of the Serpents__  
Malfoy Manor  
Wiltshire_

On the other side was what he assumed was the Hogwarts coat of arms. With a slight trepidation, he opened the envelope. He hadn't expected a reply for several days. He needn't have worried. After all, it seemed to be far too heavy an envelope for it to be a refusal.

His assumption was correct. The first piece of parchment in the envelope was a letter from Dumbledore informing him of his acceptance and requesting Aeon to join him at Hogwarts for another meeting later that same day. Underneath his acceptance letter were copies of the syllabi currently being used, a list of the books currently being used as well as a list of recommended texts along with a list of the subjects which were typically covered on the OWLs and the NEWTs. Then, there were several official looking papers - a contract, which Dumbledore assured him in his letter was quite standard, and a form to set up a draft so that pay could be deposited directly to his Gringotts' vault.

He couldn't help but feel pleased by the news. He had to admit that he hadn't wanted the position at first, but perhaps it was for the best. This would, at least, guarantee that the time he spent with the Dark Lord was limited. Not only that, but it would offer him a certain amount of independence. He would no longer be beholden to Lucius or the Dark Lord. The relief he felt upon signing the contract was palpable.

Plus, he couldn't help but yearn to be in the presence of Albus Dumbledore once more. The feelings he felt when he was near the wizard were intriguing to say the least. Despite the fatigue he felt, he bathed and dressed quickly. By the time he joined Narcissa in her quarters for breakfast, his mood was light and there was a true smile upon his face.

Narcissa eyed him suspiciously. "You look happy," she accused.

He laughed as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I am, cousin," he said before dropping into the chair beside her bed.

"I take it the interview went well, then?" she asked before discreetly calling for her house elf.

A dark look flitted across his face, but he quickly suppressed it. "Very well, especially considering this," he said and pulled the envelope out of his pocket, "came for me early this morning. You are now looking at Professor Aeon Black, divination extraordinaire!" His tone was definitely sardonic which Narcissa seemed to pick up on at once.

"I am happy for you," she said, though she didn't seem it. Breakfast arrived, and the two cousins lapsed into silence as they went about breakfasting. After dressing her tea the way she liked, Narcissa sighed. "About yesterday... I apologize for my reaction. I was simply startled. I truly meant no offense. Forgive me?"

Aeon gave her a smile as he added a generous amount of both milk and sugar to his tea. "There's nothing to forgive. I know you had some guests over for tea yesterday. Any new gossip to share with me?"

Narcissa beamed. "I'm glad you asked," she started and leaned over conspiratorially. "Margot Parkinson gave birth to her first child a fortnight ago, a little girl called Pansy. Quite a scandal as she and her husband haven't even been married a quarter of a year!"

Aeon spent the morning listening to the comings and goings of the upper crust of wizarding society. After which, he spent some time wandering the manor. He was rather disconcerted to discover that he and Narcissa appeared to be the only ones in residence. That certainly didn't bode well for anyone. He half-hoped that someone would return before time for his meeting but the house was still oddly empty when it came time for him to leave.

When he arrived in Hogsmeade, he was surprised to discover that the sun was shining brightly. He took a moment to gather his bearings before heading down the path that had so distracted him yesterday. He gasped loudly when Hogwarts came into view, both at the beauty of the castle and at the feeling of complete and utter peace that fell over him at seeing it. He felt at home as he never had before.

As he approached the doors to the castle, a house elf appeared before him. "Libby is to be showing Professor Black the way to Professor Dumbledore's office!" the elf chirped.

Aeon nodded his consent and allowed himself to be led through the corridors to a stone statue of a gargoyle. It was rather odd how familiar he found the castle. He was almost certain that he could have found his way to the gargoyle even without the elf.

After a moment, the gargoyle moved aside and the wall opened up behind him revealing a circular moving staircase.

"Ah, Mister Black. I trust that you are well this afternoon?" inquired Dumbledore when Aeon reached his office. He gave Aeon a broad smile, but his blue eyes were guarded.

"Quite well," he responded with a smile of his own. "And yourself?"

"Splendid. Now, have you any questions for me? I trust the contract was to your satisfaction?"

To be honest, he had scarcely read the thing before signing, but he doubted very much that Albus Dumbledore, defender of the Light, would attempt to deceive him. "Everything was acceptable," Aeon told him. He pulled the packet of parchment out of the pocket of his robes and pushed it across the desk to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore gave him another broad smile and clapped his hands together in front of him. "Splendid," he said once more. "Now, then. Your quarters are adjacent to the Divination classroom which is at the base of the North Tower. Professor Tiddlywick will be in residence until Thursday at the very latest, but I daresay she won't mind if you take a quick peek at the quarters. That way you shall know if there are any changes you would like to make before you move in on Saturday."

Aeon blinked several times. "What?" he asked, shaking himself slightly. "Saturday? I was under the impression that the position was filled until the upcoming year."

"Professor Tiddlywick was most adamant about having an expedited departure once she discovered that I had secured a replacement as I mentioned in both the letter as well as in the contract," Dumbledore said, not unkindly. "If that is unacceptable, then I'm afraid -" he began to say, but Aeon cut him off.

"No, no! It's perfectly fine if a bit unexpected. I must have overlooked that portion in the contract. I've no other obligations at the moment, so there's nothing to stop me from moving in on Saturday."

"You are more than welcome to continue using Professor Tiddlywick's syllabus for the remainder of the year if you wish. Shall I show you to your quarters?"

Aeon nodded slowly as he worried his lower lip. Saturday! That was only days away! He could only hope the Dark Lord would not be unhappy about his rather hasty departure from Malfoy Manor.


	10. Chapter 10

So, I could give you a list of excuses for not updating, but this is what it boils down to: I got burned out on Harry Potter and had to take a lengthy break. Combine that with applying to graduate programs, senior year, and now entering graduate schools and there you go! I've been pouring through my old fics lately however, so hopefully you'll see more regular updates from now on!

Harry Potter and the Unraveling of Time

By _Koinaka_

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference

_The Road Not Taken - _Robert Frost

Chapter Nine_  
_

Aeon need not have worried about the Dark Lord's reaction as he was not in residence when he returned to Malfoy Manor. Nor was Lucius, for that matter. The only people still remaining in the manor was Narcissa, who was decidedly subdued, and Severus, who did nothing but flit about making disparaging remarks about a multitude of things, most of which Aeon could not change or help as well as plying him with potion after potion in case the witch in charge of the Infirmary was not up to par.

"And do not, for the love of Merlin, drink a single potion made by Horace Slughorn. I must admit that he was, once upon a time, one of the better Potion Masters in Britain, but time has dulled his senses. Now, he is nothing but an insipid sycophant," Severus had ranted at length. "In fact, steer clear of him altogether lest he be tempted—and I daresay he _will_—to attempt to collect you. He is quite fond of gathering the crème de la crème of the Wizarding world around him. The appearance of a mysterious Black with a talent in Divination, I fear, may send him over the edge."

Aeon listened and vowed, repeatedly, to avoid Horace Slughorn at all costs. He wanted to draw as little attention to himself as possible—something that was beginning to look more and more unlikely as he found himself on the front of the _Daily Prophet _the day after his appointment as the Divination Professor.

The headline read as follows:

PUREBLOOD HEIR FOUND WANDERING AROUND LONDON AFTER A BRUTAL ATTACK: ARE ANY OF US SAFE?

Beneath the large letters was a photograph of him looking wide-eyed and frightened. It was not until he noticed where the photograph was taken that he realized exactly who was responsible for the article. His eyes narrowed before flitting through the article at lightning speed. It was, for the most part, completely ridiculous though there were several facts that were actually true—such as the fact that he was the son Alphard Black and an unknown witch as well as the fact that he had been appointed to the position of Professor of Divination. The other things, however, held no truth whatsoever especially the headline proclaiming him to be the Black Heir. If he was, no one had seen fit to inform him.

That didn't seem to matter at all as he learned the moment he stepped foot into Diagon Alley later that same day. He found himself swarmed with people when he entered The Leaky Caldron. It was not until Tom, the barkeep, sent out sparks from his wand that Aeon was able to safely make his way through the small pub and into the alley proper.

Eyes followed him as he made his way down the alley to the large, imposing building that was the Wizarding bank, Gringotts. His first order of business was to open a vault of his own. He had, in his pocket, the moneybag that never seemed to empty which he discovered when he attempted to empty it this morning only to find the bag miraculously full again. He didn't feel safe carrying around such an obscene amount of money, but he would be damned if he would allow Lucius or the Dark Lord to spend another Knut on him.

"That will not be necessary," the goblin at the counter told him curtly.

Aeon blinked owlishly. "Not necessary?" he parroted back. "Whyever not?"

The goblin's lips thinned. "You've already a vault, Mr. Black. Vault Number 397."

Aeon's eyes narrowed as he eyed the goblin, who was in the process of pushing an ancient looking key across the countertop towards him, shrewdly. "And just who, might I ask, set up this vault?"

"I'm afraid we are unable to divulge the name of your benefactor. Gringott's considers the privacy of the clients to be of utmost importance," the goblin said before addressing the witch in line behind Aeon.

Aeon, for his part, slipped the key into his pocket and stalked from the bank practically radiating with rage. He was so lost in rage that he did not even notice when another wizard nearly ran him down.

"Sorry mate," the wizard said before stopping.

Aeon would have paid him no attention and continued on his way to Twilfit & Tattings had the wizard not grabbed a hold of his arm.

"I beg your pardon," Aeon said, finally, coming to himself and wrenching his arm away only to stop short at the sight of the man in question. Staring at him, with a look somewhere between hope and horror, was a man that looked eerily like himself. That was not what caused Aeon to stop short. It was the torrential wave of emotions that crashed into him—love, anger, sadness, regret all whipped through him in the moment that their eyes met.

"Merlin," the other man breathed. "_Regulus_?"

Stunned, Aeon shook his head. "N-no," he managed to say after a moment. Then, clearing his head with a shake, he continued. "Aeon Black, and you are?"

The other man's eyes widened almost comically. "I know who you are now! You're that bloke in the Daily Prophet, aren't you? Uncle Alfie's kid or something like that, aren't you?"

"Yes. Quite," Aeon replied tersely. It was all he could do to not reach out and touch the wizard in front of him, if only to ensure that what he was seeing was truly right in front of him. Never, since the moment he awoke at Malfoy Manor, had he felt such strong emotion.

The wizard grinned, obviously pleased. "Name's Sirius. We're cousins. Once removed or some such rot," he quipped, extending his hand for Aeon to shake.

Aeon stared at it blankly before finally grasping it softly.

"Say, are you busy? I wouldn't ask only I'm terribly late to meet my best mate for a drink. I don't think he'd mind if you came with."

Aeon had a plethora of things to do, including purchasing an entire wardrobe, choosing a textbook, not to mention furnishings for his chambers. He really ought to part ways with this Sirius Black, despite his apparent relation and the emotions the other wizard caused him to feel. When he opened his mouth to decline the invitation, however, he found himself saying just the opposite.

"Not busy at all."

If the appearance of Sirius Black caused a wave of emotion to crash into him, it was nothing compared to the emotions he experienced at the appearance of Sirius's friend, James Potter. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt as if his heart was breaking.

Sirius and James exchanged worried looks at Aeon's odd behavior. He had nearly stumbled over nothing in an effort to get away from James Potter when the man shook his hand.

"You alright there, mate?" Sirius asked.

Aeon blinked rapidly against the tears welling up in his eyes. "Yes," he said, his voice unsteady. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes."

He sat down awkwardly across from the two friends. An uncomfortable silence lapsed over them interrupted only by the buxom waitress bringing over three goblets of warm butter beer.

All of sudden, a million questions flitted through his head. With Lucius and the others at Malfoy Manor, he had had to watch his every single word. In the beginning, he'd asked questions, yes, but for the most part they had gone unanswered. Now, though, now he was quite certain should he ask these two virtual strangers one of his many questions not only would they answer, but they would tell them the truth. He could trust them. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt—knew it deep within him.

"You've both read the article in the Prophet, then?" he asked the two wizards.

They both nodded eagerly. "Yeah, threw me for a right loop," Sirius said.

James agreed straight away. "Never even knew Cousin Alfie had a kid."

At Aeon's confused look he continued. "My mum's a Black, you know. They're cousins. Quite close, too, until he died that is."

Aeon chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "I don't think he knew," he said finally though he had no idea whether the man knew or not.

Sirus's eyes widened once more, and he leaned over the table. "It's true what they're saying then? That you were the victim of some dark spell that affected your memory?" he asked, curiosity radiating through his voice and every line in his body.

Aeon looked from James to Sirius before finally shaking his head. "No, they're quite wrong. I was never attacked. At least that I know of," he added thoughtfully. He chewed on his already abused lower lip. "Well, that's not true. Severus says I must have been attacked at some point because of the residual dark magic he found. That's not why I've lost my memories, though."

He paused taking in their reactions. James looked thoughtful whereas Sirius's curiosity had intensified two-fold. That was until he made a nasty face, his nose scrunched up as if he smelled something particularly foul.

"Severus? Oh, please tell me you don't mean ol' Snivellus Snape?"

Aeon's eyes narrowed. "And if I do? I'll have you know that Severus has saved my life no less than twice, so I suggest you think carefully about how you answer that question."

James tugged urgently on Sirius's shirt sleeve. "Come off it, Padfoot," he said, quietly, his eyes still set on Aeon.

"Come off what, Prongs? Sure, if it's the Dark Arts that were bothering you, I bet he was able to help you. Ol' Snivelly knew more about the Dark Arts before he even stepped foot on Hogwarts ground than most wizards ever know. I expect by now he's a Death Eater licking ol' Voldemort's boots, don't you?"

"That is quite enough," Aeon said, more than a bit breathlessly, as he rose to his feet, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. He and Severus may have butted heads on several occasions, but Severus was near the only person he could count on.

_And look what you did to him_, his mind said nastily.

He ignored that thought and concentrated on the scene in front of him. "Thank you for the drink, Black," he said stiffly before turning to leave.

He was halfway through the throng of fellow customers when he heard James shout, "Wait!"

He halted only briefly when he saw James making his way through the crowd towards him.

"Yes?" Aeon asked, his voice quite cool now.

"You've got to ignore Sirius. Half of what he says is utter rubbish. He and Snape never got on in school. Not that that excuses it, but…" he trailed off helplessly. "Look, my mum's been going spare since she saw the article this morning. Cousin Alfie was the only member of the Black family she could stand 'cept Sirius, you know. She was planning on sending you an owl only she wasn't quite sure where you were staying."

"With the Malfoys," Aeon told him at once. "Until Saturday, that is."

James nodded but his expression darkened ever so slightly. "Come to tea tomorrow," he said. "Mum'd love to meet you." He paused. "She knows loads about Alfie since they were thick as thieves growing up. She could tell you about if, if you wanted."

"I—yes," Aeon said.

A bright smile broke over James's face. "Great!" he exclaimed, pressing a piece of parchment into Aeon's hand. "See you then."

"See you," Aeon echoed weakly as James disappeared into the crowd.

He stood there for a moment, his mind reeling, before finally tucking the parchment into his pocket and leaving the pub. Unbidden he felt a smile come to his face and, for the first time in a long while, felt something akin to hope.


End file.
